


Breaking Point

by Sturgeon_Actual



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Military, Angst, F/F, Female Protagonist, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, My First Work on this Site, Political Alliances, Science Fiction, This work studies the concept of change and political morals in individuals as well as society, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sturgeon_Actual/pseuds/Sturgeon_Actual
Summary: Elea never wanted to become a soldier.But as tensions between the Omnicontinental and the Insurgency escalate into full-blown war, she soon found that the choice was no longer hers to make.Drafted into service after the Black Monday attacks, she struggles to make it through boot camp at the bare minimum. She doesn’t want to go to war, she just wants to do her time in the military and go home.But now, both sides are racing against the clock to hunt her down. And the worst part is, Elea has no idea why.





	1. Black Monday

 

_“Change comes to all nations, to all ways of life. It’s possible to slow it down. But to stop it? Never.” -Unknown_

* * *

 

 

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were supposed to be _winning_ the war.

 

_“...And in other news, the most recent report from Eastern Front has just come back. Military forces operating just inside the town of Sumy have been pushed out of the downtown area almost entirely due to what is being described by field commanders as ‘constant and unrelenting assaults on our fortifications from enemy special operations teams.’”_

 

Elea didn’t know why she even worried about it. The whole thing was two continents and an ocean away, anyway.

 

_“The military’s most recent defeat includes losing a key storage complex. Insurgent forces have taken over multiple warehouses filled with supplies and food originally meant for allied soldiers. After a tense three week standoff between the rebels and military forces occupying the region, the OCMF forces occupying the area were ordered to retreat. Th-....”_

  


She sighed in frustration, shutting off the lightscreen as she dropped the flimsy sheet of paper. It floated gently down onto the desk, landing in front of dozens of letters just like it. They were letters from different job applications, but they all had the same underlying message at the end of the day. It seemed she was always in second place in the job market.

 

Unfortunately, silver medals weren’t going to pay for her tuition, or her mother’s treatment.

 

Elea raked a hand through her scarlet hair, trying to brainstorm a way out of this financial catastrophe. It seemed as if every little thing was competitive nowadays. The struggling student got up from her chair, it’s metal legs scraping against the wood floor. She paced through her dorm room, looking out the window.

 

A buzzing filled her pocket like an angry little bee. Her holo beckoned, and she heeded, pulling the small rectangular device out of her pocket. It was some junk email from  some no-name organization, offering her for admittance to an ‘alternative program’ for ‘financially troubled scholars.’ She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow and scoff at what was, in all likeliness, another attempt at a scam.

A knock on her dorm room door pulled her attention away from the electronic device. She turned her head to face the door, slipping her holo back into her pocket.

Unlocking the door’s aluminum latch, the struggling student found none other than her friend standing there waiting for her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Hey, Griffin. You finish your classes today already?” she asked. Griffin only deadpanned in response. “It’s a basic first-aid course. Is that even question?” Elea couldn’t deny his nonchalant bravado.

 

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “Not for you, apparently.”

 

Griffin couldn’t help but looks past his friend over to the scattered papers adorning her desk and the floor around it. “That’s a lot of letters addressed to Elea Stendhal. You’re not having trouble with the bills again, are you?” He asked.

 

Before he even continued, Elea already knew what he was implying. They had had this talk before, but lately, it had always been ending the same way. “Look, I’m grateful for all the help you gave me during my first four semesters here. Really, I am. But I got applications for better jobs to cover tuition and stuff. I got this. So yeeaaahh. Relaaaax. Stop worrying so much.” She gestured finger guns dismissively.

 

She looked back at the ripped open letters, then back to him. Judging by the deadpan on Griffin’s face, he didn’t buy it. Elea didn’t blame him. It didn’t take a genius detective to tell when she was lying. After what seemed like an eternity of Griffin giving her _The Look_ , she finally relented.

 

She sighed deeply, frowning. “....Ok fine, I’m sorry. Quit looking at me like that.”

 

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help every now and then.”

 

“Yeah, but I feel like I’m asking for help from everyone all the time!” Anxiety tugged at her emotions as all the stress came back to her. She huffed in frustration and crossed her arms, looking back to her friend. He stared at her with a glance of pity, almost compassion to her plight.

 

“I don’t want to be the person that’s constantly a burden on everyone else. I’m already a burden on you.” Elea admitted. A regretful frown crossed her face. Her brow furrowed as she stared at the floor.

 

“You’re not a burden-”

 

“Yeah, I kinda am!” She interrupted. “You and your family help to pay to keep me afloat, and for what? Because I help you pass your classes?”

Griffin put his hands on his hips, glowering at his friend’s borderline self-loathing. “You and I both know that’s not the only reason my family helps you. Which actually reminds me of why I came to talk to you in the first place.”

 

Elea raised an eyebrow at the revelation. She put what she was going to say on pause, anticipating what he was going to say. “I originally came here to give you some news on your mom since you were too busy to check yourself. Her operation was a success. Docs say she’s recovering  in the hospital.” he reported.

Elea breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Ok.” Elea whispered, her voice low and tired now. She put a hand to her head like she has nursing a headache. “Thanks for the heads up.”

 

It seemed Griffin quickly picked up on this. “Hey uh, listen….I’m heading downtown to grab some dinner. There’s this Britannic place in the 51st street plaza that makes really good rarebit. You wanna come with?” He offered, motioning towards the elevator out at the end of the hallway. Elea thought on it for a moment. She was pretty hungry at that point, skipping lunch to finish all of her assignments in time, both academic and economic. Not like it had paid off for her though. It was a better ending to this than the usual arguments they would have.

She glanced back at her messy dorm room. To the bed in the corner with the window above it. To the empty mini-fridge save for a couple of odd energy drinks. And to that desk with those damn letters, the yellow light of the lamp still shining down on them. She silently sneered at them in discontent like they was the plague itself.

 

Then she looked back to Griffin.

 

“Hmph. Yeah. Sounds like a good excuse as any to get out of here.” She said.

 

Walking back into her room, she grabbed her jacket draped lazily on top of the space heater, throwing it onto herself before returning to the door. She locked the door behind her, slipping the key in her pocket.

 

Outside, a large, bustling, charming city stood to greet them. New Washington.

 

They exited the building at one end of the dusty cement sidewalk. The sun was but a crack on the horizon now. As night began to fall on the city, a pair of moths hovered around the streetlight shining directly onto her. Chilly Autumn air breezed past, as her coffee-stained hoodie clung to her body.

 

The two of them strolled down the sidewalk at a casual pace. Neither of the two students said anything. Neither of them really knew what to say. The only sound they could hear was the sound of their walking and the occasional car passing by on the street, as well as the echoing background noise of the city echoing from skyscraper to skyscraper.

 

Getting closer and closer to their destination, Griffin silently motioned to a sign that read ‘51st street plaza’ on it. The sign alone looked like something out of the entrance to a 19th-century mansion. Turning the corner onto the next street over, they were greeted with a grand a luminous sight. Even though they had seen it before, something about its grandeur view never failed to amaze the two of them.

A massive marble plaza about the size of a small football field with a gigantic glass skylight covering its area. The first tinges of moonlight shined through, mixed with the artificial lights illuminating from the shops and lampposts. A fountain spouted crystal clear water endlessly at its center. Elea’s eyes gleamed in content at the sight. It was like her own little eighth wonder of the world.

Shops, restaurants, and small stores lined the perimeter of the stone square. Each one of them with their own unique shapes, colors, and designs in an attempt to attract people to their store. Patrons and store staff alike walked around or sat on benches surrounding the fountain. Some talked to each other, some snacked on little treats they had bought just a minute or two ago, and some relaxed in peace and tranquility of the plaza.

 

The first thing they noticed was how quiet it was tonight. Usually, it was like a marketplace, full of hustle and bustle. Not tonight, however. Tonight it seemed like even the very aura of the area was restful.

But Griffin was only here for one thing. His eyes darted around each and every sign, looking for the one that belonged to a particular restaurant. After a grand total of three seconds of searching, he found what he was looking for: a bright red and yellow LED sign that simply read ‘Alwyn’s.’

Walking past its clear glass doors, they picked a small booth and sat down. Save for the old man asleep at the other end of the restaurant, it seemed that they were the only patrons attending tonight.

 

Elea yawned as she looked up at the ceiling, resting her head on the booth’s cushion. “Hey I know I agreed to come, but you know we’re both university students, right? We could have saved some time and money if we’d gone to a magical place known as a...wait for it...school cafeteria.” Elea couldn’t help but point out, cynically gesturing a rainbow shape with her hands.

“Yeah sure there’s that. But you need to relax a little and eat actual, real, human food. Not the dime-a-dozen’ garbage you get served in the cafeteria.” He countered, unwrapping his utensils from the napkin that contained them. Elea had no response to that, choosing to remain silent.

Griffin casually scrolled through something on his holo, uninterested.  Equally as uninterested was Elea, who rested her chin in the palm of her hand as her elbow rested on the table top. She read through the menu and weighed her options, trying to find something that looked good while also not costing too much.

 

“Hey.” She said.

 

Griffin looked up from his holo. “What?”

 

“What exactly is spanakopita? It’s on the menu but I’m not sure if I should order it.” She said, squinting at the menu.

 

“Oh, that? I used to have that every new year’s eve with my family. It’s mostly just cheese and-”

 

Griffin never got the chance to finish the sentence as a thunderous boom rocked the entire complex.

 

The lights blinked in the building as the power flashed off and then back on again. Steel and wood support beams shook and shivered. A wooden chair that was off-balance fell over, hitting the tile floor with a noisy thwack. The old man asleep in the corner was jolted awake, wondering what the hell just happened.

 

Elea and Griffin were wondering the same thing.

 

From outside, they could hear people screaming in fear. A man ran past the entrance of the restaurant with his holo’s camera recording something. The two of them looked at one another in bewilderment before they synonymously dashed outside, trying to learn what had just happened.

Griffin shoved the glass door out of his way, and the moment they got outside, they spotted a crowd of people gathered around the square’s fountain. People around it murmured and talked in hushed whispers among themselves. Some were young, some were old. Some stood alone while others were together, holding each other. Some of them were recording with cameras while others were too shocked to respond. They were all different in one way or another. But they all had one thing in common.

 

They were all looking up.

 

And when Elea saw what they were looking at, she couldn’t believe it. She had been raised to believe that New Washington was the sector’s capital. That it offered many opportunities to all people from all walks of life. That it was one of the safest and most stable cities in the entire world. But what she saw now changed all that.

 

The I.S.A skyscraper had exploded and was now on fire.

 

Everything between the massive tower’s middle section to its roof was engulfed in a wall of orange flame that glowed and glared like a miniature sun in the night sky. Even in the ever-growing darkness of the evening, she could still see the single column of hideous black smoke bellow from the blazing depths.

Elea cupped a hand over her mouth in horror, hardly able to process what was going on right in front of her, which was less than what she could say for her friend. Griffin didn’t seem shocked at all. Instead, his face was locked into an angry scowl. His blood boiled at the sight of such a disaster occurring right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Secondary explosions flared out and detonated from the mile-high inferno. Even from two or three blocks away, the gut-wrenching stench of burning rubber, metal, and plastic wafted through the air. Elea could vaguely register the sound of rotors from circling news helicopters and drones. Their spotlights and cameras shone down upon the horrifying scene, illuminating it even further. A pair of ambulances and a firetruck raced past the square as fast as their engines would allow them. Their bright red-blue sirens were blaring and flashing the whole way.

 

Fear gripped at her like a vise. She didn’t even know how to respond to this. Another vehicle with sirens beaming out in every direction cruised down the street. Except this one wasn’t going towards the building. In fact, it was going the opposite direction. What the vehicle was blasting from its loudspeakers quickly cleared up any confusion about its purpose there.

 

 **_“This is the New Washington Police Department. All citizens within the downtown area please return to your homes. Stay there and await further instructions. Failure to comply will result in arrest.”_ ** A police cruiser blared from the bullhorn atop its roof.

 

This was all happening so fast. The scarlet-haired girl turned her companion, grabbing him by the shoulder “I think we should go.” Griffin seemed to disagree, peeling her hand off his shoulder. “What if they need our help? We should stay in case there’s something we can do.” He said.

She glanced over to the police cruisers, plural this time. The one rolling down the street had seemingly multiplied into three while she wasn’t looking, and by the sound of it, more were on their way. She tugged at Griffin’s coat sleeve. “I really think we should go.” She repeated, this time with more urgency. He hesitated for a brief second, then relented. The two of them began to depart from the plaza at more of a hurried pace than when they arrived. Slowly, the people around the fountain started to follow suit.

The street was brighter than before, lit up by light flooding from the fire in the sky. The light pulsed, fading between dimness and brightness as the fire burned behind them. Walking back to the dorm room, they were as silent as church mice. She couldn’t help but turn her head every once and a while to see the vivid blaze fade into a dull orange ball of light.

When they got there, Elea’s dorm room was just the way she left it, messy papers and all. Elea briefly wondered if she would have even noticed the explosion at all if she had decided to stay and keep working instead. She pulled the jacket off herself, tossing it back on top the inactive space heater.

 

Lazily, the taller of the two snatched the remote off the bed, tapping the on-switch for the lightscreen mounted to the wall. He flipped from a cooking show to a documentary, and finally to the very same news channel Elea’d been listening to before they left.

The newscaster paused, pressing her earpiece deeper into her ear as a voice talked to her on the other end of the link. What they were saying was inaudible, but whatever it was definitely caused a look of concern to wash over the reporter’s face.

 

 _“You’re sure?”_ She asked whoever was on the other end.

 

More inaudible chattering on the other end.

 

_“Oh my god......This just in, a massive explosion has rocked New Washington after an unknown force infiltrated the I.S.A building. More from Dan Rivera, who is on the scene now.”_

The single screen split into two as both the faces of the newscaster and the reporter now on scene could be seen. The camera quickly shifted the focus to the new reporter, Dan. In the background, Elea could see smoke drifting lazily through the evening air as a line of police officers attempted to corral the bystanders in an area behind black and yellow caution tape.

 

 _“Thank you, Janet. Here in the downtown area, you can see the carnage just behind me. And sources are saying that this was no accident, but a direct attack. We do not have confirmation yet as to whether these attacks were related to the San Hugel Insurgency.”_ The man reported as the camera’s view shifted over to the burned-out husk of a destroyed police cruiser that had been unlucky enough to be crushed by falling debris from the detonation. The poor car was smashed so severely that it was barely recognizable. Its plexiglass sirens were all but pulverized. The paint job that had formerly read ‘police’ had been covered so much by concrete debris that the only word Elea could make out was ‘pol.’

 

_“They broke into the I.S.A building. As to why the local police won’t say. It’s uncertain how many people were still inside the skyscraper at the time of the blast. Evacuation efforts are now underway. Police haven’t been unable to identify the perpetrators of this act of terrorism, and are now offering a large cash reward to anyone who has information on-”_

The man stopped mid-sentence as his attention turned to his aid off-camera. Rivera’s face was first one of uncertainty, then astonishment as he listened to them.

 

_“We are just now getting reports of similar attacks happening in multiple locations across the world. Government buildings in Kruschynk, Yhedens, and Akarui have all been demolished by bomb blasts. Folks, I can’t believe what I’m hearing here. We have also just gotten word that martial law has been declared in all four of these cities, and the intercontinental guard will be moving there shortly. We will continue coverage until-”_

Elea’s attention began to fade away from the news report as she took a seat on her mattress and stared out the window. It was about as much as one would expect in a crowded urban area, the window pointed in the direction of the rest of the city. But that city didn’t stand as an immortal figure of the Omnicontinental’s power, anymore. Now it seemed like a vulnerability, a warning sign almost.

 

It was evident that Griffin had had enough, turning the lightscreen off before setting the remote down on the desk. He sighed deeply. “Damn….” was the only word he could muster in a defeated tone.

 

“What happens now?” Elea asked, sitting crisscrossed on the plumpy soft bed, her arms resting on her knees. She stared at the drywall, half spaced-out.

 

Griffin didn’t bother to look her in the eye. “If we’re lucky, then I’m going to be able to enlist sooner than I thought.” He declared with determination.

 

She snapped back to reality for a moment at what he just said. “Wait hold up. You don’t think it was-”

 

“Who else could it _be,_  Elea?”

 

She fell silent, dropping the conversation as she fell onto her pillow. She stared at the ceiling, putting her hands behind her head against the pillow. She wasn’t sure what to think. What to do. Now it was just a big long wait until the rest of the world decided what it wanted to do in response to this.

 

She hated waiting.


	2. Seized!

 

The flags were mounted at half-mast the following morning.

 

Ninety-six people in total had been killed in the explosion. That was just in New Washington alone. Mostly government agents and tech specialists. Countless more had been victims of injuries ranging from minor cuts and scrapes to full-body third-degree burns that left them lucky to be alive. The atmosphere wasn’t sad or gloomy. It felt more confused, like the whole city was still waiting for the actual weight of what had happened to sink in. There were still people out in the streets shopping around. Even groups of friends sitting in pubs and coffee shops chatting about their lives. Those who had known the victims of the attack were emotionally distressed, of that there was no doubt. But as for everyone else? They didn’t know anyone who had been affected. It wasn’t really their place to concern themselves with such matters as terrorist attacks.

Last Elea heard police were swarming the streets all night long in the wake of the attacks. It was meant to hopefully net and eventually weed out those responsible for the attack on the chance that they were still residing in the city. At least that’s what the people wanted to believe.

The bombings were far too well-coordinated across the world to be left to the deviations of amateurs. Deep down, everyone knew that whoever had blown up those buildings was long gone. Still, protocol was protocol. The New Washington PD hadn’t given up their search yet, and they weren’t scheduled to for at least another week and a half.

 

Which was where Elea was now. 

 

The day after gave way to the clearest weather New Washington had seen that Autumn. Strangely enough, a storm had shown up briefly in the night, helping firefighters to put out the fire. After the rain clouds had dissipated in the night, the morning sun shone brightly. The city would have been so lively today if it hadn’t been for the events of last night.

Sprinkling rain clung to her window. No lightning, no thunder, just rain so faint it didn’t even make a noise as it hit the glass.

She walked across her room and kneeled down, popping open the lower door of her mini-fridge. Just as before, it was still devoid of anything resembling food. The only contents that populated it’s interior were a couple of cheap energy drinks. They had been stocked in the back for so long that Elea was genuinely uncertain if they were safe to drink. She mentally groaned, shutting the door. With the cafeteria also being closed for the day, she would need to grab some groceries, lest she wanted to go hungry. 

 

A low rumbling emitted from the street, like the guttural growl of a great beast. Elea looked out the window. A column of four tanks rolled down the road, catching Elea’s attention. They were like steel elephants, each twice the size of a standard car. Their diesel engines whined as they kicked up puddles, splashing rainwater down the sidewalk, soaking anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in their way.

Elea was stunned, her eyes widening as she continued to stare down from her fourth-floor window. The military? What on earth were they doing here? 

The college student quickly threw on some clothes and exited her dorm room.

 

Still groggy from waking up, she walked down the hall, her tennis shoes hardly making a sound against the cheap blue industrial carpet tacked to the floor. The hall was devoid of anyone else. Before she even made it halfway down the hallway, a familiar face came to meet hers. He was taller than her, at least a good three or four inches. His blue eyes looked down to meet her green ones.“You’re up earlier than usual.” He deadpanned.

But Elea wasn’t having any of it right now, immediately changing the subject. “Griffin, the military’s here.” She pointed out. Instead of the look of perplexion slowly turning into realization on his face like she was expecting, Griffin simply kept his deadpan.

 

“Yeah, I know.” He replied nonchalantly, liked he wasn’t concerned one bit.

 

Now it was Elea’s turn to be perplexed “What?”

 

“Martial law got declared last night, sometime after you fell asleep. They’re here to help police find out who did it.” Elea hesitated for a second but stopped herself. Yeah, guess that made sense.

 

“Need to head down to the store and grab some food. I mean if the Insurgency’s main goal was to intimidate our hardworking cafeteria staff into not showing up for work today, then yeah. Mission accomplished.” She remarked sarcastically. “You mind coming with?”

 

Griffin’s brow furrowed, ignoring the offhand comment. “Why do you need me to come with you?” He asked, suspicious.

 

Elea rubbed her arm as her face scrunched up. She froze up slightly in embarrassment. “Well, I mean you’re the one who wants to join the military. You probably know how to deal with them better than I do…” She suggested. Even without her saying it directly, Griffin picked up on the hint.

 

“The soldiers scare you?” He asked. Elea could pick up on how his tone changed in the blink of an eye, from questioning her intentions to concerned for her wellbeing.

 

“Well, they have guns, armored vehicles, and helicopters. Most of them are trained killers. So yes Griffin, they kinda scare me.” She pointed out. 

 

He merely shrugged in confusion. “But they’re on our side.” 

 

“Yeah I mean- I yeah- I just.” She started, stumbling over her own words in exasperation. “I know  _ that _ . It’s just that rationally I know nothing’s gonna happen, but...I’m still not comfortable with it, you know?” She hoped that Griffin would understand her plight, despite how vulnerable as it made her look.

 

He blinked. “Alright then, I’m down. I mean, that’s what friends are for right?” He asked.

 

Elea scoffed. “That’s what friends are for?’ Yikes, what are you? The protagonist of a highschool musical?” She crossed her arms in mock indignation, pouting facetiously.

 

Griffin was amused. “Hey… that’s not nice…you really hurt my feelings….” He replied with an equal amount of mock sadness. A comical frown with puppy dog eyes and all. He couldn’t help himself, grinning at his own bad joke. Both of them snickered in the hallway. Elea covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. It’s just such a stupid one-liner.” She managed to say through her own giggling.

 

Elea’s expression warmed up. Judging by the look on his face, that may just have been Griffin’s goal all along. “And thanks for doing this by the way. You didn’t have to.” She replied, smiling just a little bit. 

 

Griffin couldn’t help but widen his already stupid looking grin. “And hey, who knows? Maybe you’ll find a cute girl who’ll give you her number while we’re out.” He wisecracked.

Elea’s brow furrowed in a glare of annoyance. “Alright alright, don’t ruin it.” She said in a slightly scolding tone. Her words of rebuttal held no real weight behind them, however.

 

“You ready to head out?” Griffin asked, grabbing his university student identification badge. The nylon lanyard swung back and forth before settling around his neck as he put it on akin to a necklace. He tossed Elea her own, and she quickly followed suit.

 

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go.”

 

The street was nowhere near the same than the last time the two of them had stepped out onto it. There was the bright sun shining down, flooding the city in warm, vibrant colors. Pigeons hopped across railroad tracks as couples walked along, whispering to one another. Soldiers loitered around. Some were conversing among themselves, telling jokes and laughing. They acted so casually that it felt strange to Elea. She had subconsciously expected these people to be a lot scarier since that just kinda came with the job, at least in her opinion. 

The two of them silently walked along the sidewalk, the sounds of their footsteps drowned out by the sounds of the city. A businesswoman casually gave a group of soldiers who were lost directions to a nearby building. A staff sergeant whipped out a lighter, helping out an old man with a cigar that just refused to light. A group of schoolchildren gathered around a parked tank with gleaming eyes, giving handwritten letters of appreciation to its crew. Like they were superheroes or something.

 

The soldiers seemed much more human than Elea had anticipated. So much so, that she had to ask herself; were these really the same men and women that could take another human life at the whim of a simple order? She’d imagined something along the lines of faceless stormtroopers. Machines that wouldn’t hesitate to punish those who made even the slightest infractions. But these weren’t machines. They almost seemed like ordinary people.

The feeling of a minor migraine washed over her. Elea sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes. Maybe she was just paranoid.

 

The two students continued down the sidewalk, turning the corner past a fashion design shoppe. Elea couldn’t help but notice the stunning blue jacket in the storefront window. Her instincts groaned loud, but her wallet groaned louder. With a heavy heart, she forced herself to walk away. The men in green and gray uniforms hardly batted an eye at them. Even still, Elea tried her best to ignore them, continuing on as she and Griffin splashed through shallow puddles on the concrete. 

 

With no warning whatsoever, a van screeched around the corner at speeds well above the legal limit. It was boxy and bulky, like something a mechanic or a plumber would drive. It rushed down the street just to the left of the two students. Elea instinctively backed away from the street, her back bumping up against the glass window of that fashion store. The tires of the van locked as it braked to a screeching halt just in front of Griffin. It’s side door swung open, revealing a frightening sight.

 

Three people wearing masks and body armor jumped out of the now fully stopped vehicle. Brandishing rifles, the gunmen leveled the muzzles of their weapons at both of them. Elea raised her hands in surrender, hoping they wouldn’t shoot her. Fear bubbled up inside of her like a noxious chemical. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as butterflies fluttered in her stomach. What was happening? Who were these people? Had she done something wrong? 

One of the gunmen, apparently their leader, lunged forward at Elea. She gripped Elea’s wrist with one arm, squeezing it so hard she had no hope of resisting, let alone escape. She could feel herself tugging, hitting at her, anything to get away. But this woman was at least twice her size and easily much stronger than her. It felt like an out-of-body experience for her, like someone else had taken control of her limbs and her conscience was just along for the ride. Griffin tried to take a step towards the gunmen, perhaps in an attempt to stop them somehow? Elea couldn’t tell for sure, because before he even had the chance to react, a shot rang out. 

 

Elea screamed. The sight of seeing her best friend falling to the ground after being shot by a masked man only amplified her fear. These criminals were going to kill her if she didn’t do something now! Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the staff sergeant and the old man across the street. They had stopped their conversation and were now both looking over trying to see what was happening behind the van, probably because of the gunshot. 

The staff sergeant immediately leaped into action, gripping his rifle, he sprinted across the street, trying to figure out what the hell was going on here. “Hey!” He shouted, trying to get their attention. The nearby tank crew was starting to take notice as well. Without hesitation, the third gunmen turned the corner of the car, his iron sights locked directly onto the soldier. Before that soldier even had a chance to defend himself, two shots rang throughout the downtown metroplex. Just a minute ago, the staff sergeant had been sharing a cigar with an old man, and now he dropped to the pavement like a pile of bricks, dead.

 

Elea froze, staring at the soldier’s body. She couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened. Their leader continued yanking at her arm, dragging her into the vehicle and beckoning her subordinates to egress the area. The metal floor of the van was cold and uncomfortable. The leader picked up a black bag from the van’s floor, and the last thing Elea saw before the gunman put it over her head was the sight of Griffin on the ground. He was struggling to put pressure on his own gunshot wound as crimson liquid streamed down his shirt. He looked upon it with fear and disbelief, like he hadn’t fully processed what was happening to him yet. 

The bag was pulled over her eyes, and just like that, she was blind. Everything was so disorienting. She could hear the door slam shut, and the gunmen talking to each other in a language she couldn’t recognize as they sped off. The squeeze of cold steel washed over both of her wrists. Handcuffs? She couldn’t tell with all the chaos. They were getting speed now, much more than she was comfortable with, and certainly more than the legal limit.

 

The gunmen were almost shouting at each other now as the vehicle only continued to pick up speed. The noise of its engine becoming louder and louder. The sounds of police sirens could be heard faintly, even from where Elea was. She curled up into a ball anticipating a crash at any moment as the metal cuffs began to dig into her skin. Tears started to well up in her eyes. Whether it was because it was so hard to breathe in this bag, or because of the fear itself, she did not know. She yelped in terror, and one of the gunmen quickly rebutted, barking at her to shut up in perfect English.

 

Suddenly the van slowed to a halt. Even though its engine whined in protest, the vehicle did not move an inch. Now the gunmen really were yelling at one another. After a few seconds, the motor began to sputter and quit. Everything seemed to become quieter. The only thing she could hear now was the gunmen shuffling around in the cabin and the steaming of the stalled engine. Elea should have been so thankful that all the chaotic noise had ceased, but she had a theory as to why, and it only made her more queasy.

To her dismay, her theory was confirmed just a few moments later. The side door slammed open, and gunshots rang out. Semi-automatic fire both originated from the van and sliced through it. The loud cracks of bullets ripping through the thin aluminum of the wall of the van sent her anxiety levels soaring. One of the gunmen screamed something to another, but because there was so much gunfire, no one could hear what he said. 

Elea screamed, not at anything in particular, just out of pure fear. She desperately wanted to cover her ears, but because of the handcuffs, she was unable to. 

 

Pure chaos once more.  All she could do was curl up in the fetal position and hope that one of those bullets wouldn’t be the one to end her. 

 

Then, just like that, everything stopped. No loud engine, no gunmen shouting at each other, no gunfire, nothing. Elea moved around a bit, trying to sit up. She could hear voices approaching the van. New voices this time, not the same as the masked men. She still couldn’t hear what they were saying.

The black bag was yanked off her head, and light flooded her vision as red hair cascaded down her face. She squinted for a moment, before opening her eyes. She looked up, and four soldiers looked back at her. Their armor was nothing like Elea had seen. They each wore some sort of exo-suit, like the four of them had just stepped out of a sci-fi movie. The thing they all had in common was helmets that entirely covered their heads. All Elea could see were their eyes through their visors staring back at her. One of them spoke to the scared student, her voice slightly distorted through her speaker system.

 

“Hey kid, you alright?” The soldier asked in a gentle, almost motherly voice. Her eyes now wide open, Elea shook her head up and down quickly in response. There was still too much shock in her system for her to form any comprehensive words. Another soldier pulled out a small key he had apparently looted from the now dead gunmen. With an insert, a twist, and a click, the handcuffs fell to the van’s floor with a metallic clang.    

 

The same soldier that had asked if Elea was alright now graciously extended her hand to the redhead. Hesitantly, Elea reached to grab her hand, and the soldier pulled her out of the van and onto her feet. Outside, she could see they were on the edge of a suburban community. Trees brushed and whooshed gently in the breeze. A crowd of families stood about fifty feet away, corralled from approaching any further by a few police officers. Decent sized houses lined the street on both sides.

The chase had only felt like half a minute long. How had they ended up this far from downtown already?  “My name is Julia, I’m a combat medic. Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need anything?” She asked Elea.

 

“Uh-uhm…I had someone else with me. He tried to step in and...and...Th-they shot him…” She responded, anxiety and tears building up as she imagined the worst possible scenario. She could only hope that it wasn’t the case. 

 

Julia put her hand on Elea’s shoulder. “It’s ok, I’ll get right on that. I know you’ve just been through a lot. Why don’t we get you somewhere safe, ok?” She said, guiding Elea over to the curb of the street, sitting her down in the soft green grass blades. “Thank you,” Elea whispered, barely loud enough for the medic to hear.

 

She sat just off the sidewalk, clutching her knees in her sweaty palms, staring back at the scene about fifteen meters away. Julia walked over to another one of the armored soldiers, who was working on something on a touchscreen. This new soldier was smaller than Julia and a bit shorter too. Elea couldn't help but notice the small blades she had stored all across her body. Why would she need that many knives for, anyway?  “Namur, I just got word from the damsel that she had a friend with her when she got bagged. Any sitrep on that?” Elea could hear her say. Wait a second, was Julia talking about her when she said damsel?

The other soldier waved off the police officer she was previously talking to. “Word on the horn is that they found a guy at the scene with a gunshot wound. Paramedics rushed him to Palmer Memorial Hospital. I have no further info at this time.” She explained, glancing over to Elea with a tired depression on her brow. “Sorry kid. I wish I had better news to give.” Elea only nodded in recognition. Namur turned her attention back to her touchscreen work.

 

“Ambulance should be here soon to take you to see your friend. Just give me a call if you need anything else, ok?” Julia took one last concerned glance at Elea before walking off towards the crime scene.

 

Elea wiped her eyes quickly and turned to look back the van. Steam radiated from the engine, venting through the hood. Three masked men lay dead around the van, their bodies all riddled with holes as pools of red trickled across the road. Strangely enough, the sight of dead bodies didn’t bother her as much as it had before. She was just too buzzed from the adrenaline to even feel unnerved. There was some sort of sticky amber substance coated around the tires and undercarriage, it looked to have the same viscosity of cement from where Elea was sitting, yet it had the same hue as honey.

 

While she was waiting for the ambulance to arrive, Elea decided she should thank the people who just saved her life, it was the least she could do. But they didn’t look like the other soldiers at all. Who exactly were they? To her right was one of the soldiers that had pulled her out of the van. To put it bluntly, if Elea was David, this guy was Goliath. He stood easily six-and-a-half feet tall, and with all the muscle and mass to back it up too. She got up, tapping on the shoulder of this massive soldier. He turned to look down on her.

The sheer amount of baritone in his voice took Elea by surprise. “Hello, ma’am. You need something?” She didn’t know how to respond at first, looking down at the asphalt road. But she cleared her throat and quickly gathered her thoughts.

 

She hesitated for a moment, uncertain if she should even be asking. “Umm. I was wondering...you were one of the people that pulled me out of there, right?” She asked, even though she already knew the answer.

 

“Yeah.” He responded indifferently.

 

“Well, it’s just that you guys don’t really look like the other soldiers…” Elea trailed off, not really sure what to say after. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.

 

Catching on, the giant’s face lit up, realizing what the former hostage was leading him towards. “Ah, you’re wondering who we are? Well, my name is James. The rest of the team and I are apart of OCMFSOG. But that’s a bloody mouthful, so everyone just calls us Commandos.” He explained, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.

 

She squinted, not sure if she understood him correctly. “Wait, Commandos? Like….special forces and all that?” It didn’t make sense to her. These were some of the best soldiers the military had. What were they doing here?

 

Elea cocked an eyebrow. “Well don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful for what you did. But why are you rescuing me?” James seemed taken aback by this, not really sure how to respond to that question. In his defense, Elea wouldn’t be sure either if she were in his shoes. He did just do her a huge favor after all. “I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

 

Elea sighed. Guess it would have done her better to explain herself from the first time. “I mean aren’t you guys usually doing top secret stuff in Russia or whatever? I mean I don’t think I’m really important enough to send soldiers like you guys after. Why bother with me?” She reasoned.

 

James only shrugged. “Don’t really know. I only get orders, ma’am, I don’t question ‘em.” Elea was perplexed. Her facial expression was so blatantly obvious even James could see it. He seemed to think on the proposition for a moment before pointing to the fourth and final soldier that had rescued her. 

“But I take my orders from Troy. He’s over there if you need him.” Elea glanced over. Troy himself was talking to a couple of local police officers, motioning towards the crowd of suburban families fathered near the end of the street. Strangely enough, he was exactly what Elea envisioned in her head when she heard the word “soldier.” Tall, muscular but not too muscular, an aire of tempered confidence radiating off him. Elea couldn’t tell what his face looked like because he was still wearing his helmet. He even had dull yellow stripes on his shoulder pads that set him apart from his comrades. Probably their commander if Elea had to guess. 

 

She found herself making a beeline towards him before even she realized what she was doing. Troy must have spotted her coming, because he quickly waved off the officers to take care of the rest of the civilians, turning his attention to his latest visitor.

 

“Yes?” He asked. It was at that point Elea realized she had no idea what she was actually supposed to say. She couldn’t just ask who gave the order, could she? That may be classified information. At the last second, she decided to change what she was going to say. “Uhhh. I wanted to….thank you for rescuing me.” She finally settled on. At least it was better than more awkward silence.

 

The only thing she could see through his helmet’s visor was Troy raising an eyebrow, like an adult looking down on a child for stealing from a cookie jar. “Noted. Something tells me that’s not all you wanted to say, though.” Elea internally grimaced. Jeez, was it that obvious? So much for keeping her suspicions under wraps.

 

“Look, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but who exactly are-” Elea was about to finish when a glint of red and blue caught her eye. She turned, and down the other end of the street, she saw an ambulance. Its sirens flashed but made no sound as it slowly approached the crime scene.

 

“I think that’s your ride. You should go.” Troy suggested. Weird how that sounded less like a suggestion and more akin to an order. It was an order that Elea obliged, however. Without another word, she walked over to the paramedic crew hopping out of the vehicle, and with their help climbed into the back before shutting the metal doors. It wasn’t supposed to be important, but for some reason or another, that question kept burrowing at the back of her mind. Who those people were. It just didn’t add up. She should have just been grateful they saved her life. She should have been more concerned about her best friend rather than the identities of those soldiers. 

Why was she?

 

As the ambulance rolled down the street, the skyline of New Washington came back into view. They passed the skyscrapers, standing like mile-high sentinels on the outskirts of the city’s downtown area. Elea could only hope that Griffin wasn’t permanently injured, let alone still alive, and recovering now that this damn nightmare was over. To be honest, she was still working recovering from all this herself. Then the thought finally occurred to her, and when it did, it made her wonder why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

Why had those gunmen tried to take her? First, a bunch of heavily armed insurgents (presumably) had jumped her and shot her friend. Suspiciously, it seemed that didn’t have any provocation or warning. Then only minutes later, she was rescued by an equally suspicious team of special forces who has almost no reason being there. No one asks her any questions as to what happened, almost as if they already knew. And the cherry to top it all off is that everyone refuses to tell her why it happened. She buried her chin in the palms of her hands, resting her eyes for a bit and pondering it all.

 

When she next opened them, they were parked just outside the hospital’s front entrance. With a tin thunk, the back doors popped open. Seeing that Elea didn’t need any more help, the paramedics elected to drive off to respond to other calls. 

She looked up, and in bright red LED lights, the words “Palmer Memorial” glowed. As she approached, the electric sliding doors opened up for her like a magic spell. Ignoring everyone else sitting in the surprisingly crowded lobby, she pushed through the crowd to the receptionist’s desk. Vigorously resting her arms against the tabletop as the receptionist glanced up from his computer work.

“Can I help you?” He said in a tone so monotonous that it would have made a brick sound like a teenage girl with daddy issues by comparison.

 

Almost before he could finish, Elea blurted out with haste. “Hey is there a Griffin Surina here by any chance?” The receptionist only grunted in response, clacking away at his keyboard for about four or five seconds. But to Elea, it felt like four or five eternities. She anxiously tapped her index finger across the wood top. Finally, the receptionist’s fingers lifted from the keyboard, and he looked back up at her.

“Yes, he’s on the fourth floor, room 82b.” He replied. Without even waiting for the man to finish, she bolted to the elevators and pressed her thumb against the up button. She hopped in, pushed the button for the fourth floor and waited. When the elevator doors opened, the first thing she saw was a police officer up the hallway, standing next to a door. He stood like a royal guard with his hands behind his back, scanning the area for any sign of danger or irregularity.

 

“Excuse me.” She said, walking towards them at an accelerated pace. “Is this where Griffin Surina is? He’s a friend of mine.” She said.

 

Still, he stood like a sentinel. “Can’t let you in ma’am. Doesn’t matter if you’re a friend, family, whatever. Not until the patient’s awake and says you can come in.” He said, pointing over to a metal bench quickly fabricated with dull leathery cushions.

 

Just then, a nurse opened the door behind the officer. In the second that the door was open, Elea spotted Griffin laying on the bed, hospital gown and bandages and all. It was at that moment he spotted her, too. “Woah woah woah. Elea? Is that you? Hey, come on in!” He rasped out like he had something stuck in his throat. The guard looked at Elea for a second, then back to Griffin, then back to her.

 

“Alright, fine. Go on in.”

 

Shutting the door behind her, Elea sat in the chair next to her friend’s hospital bed. The room smelled strongly of industrial cleaning products, and the bed thin and small, almost too small to accommodate Griffin, to say nothing of the room itself.

 

“Jeez, they put you in a hospital room or jail cell?” Elea asked with a raised eyebrow and a concerned frown. Griffin only pffft in response, like he was annoyed with something but knew there was nothing he could do about it.

 

“Yeah well, I got put in a backup recovery room. Hospital gave priority of all the normal ones to the victims of the Black Monday attacks. There’s a helluva lot of them, unfortunately.”

 

Elea glanced down at the bandages covering his body, both on the inside and outside of his hospital gown from what she could tell. Mostly covering his lower abdomen. A heart rate monitor was attached to him, steadily beeping once a second. Elea’s brow furrowed. “Are you gonna be alright?” She couldn’t help but ask.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, docs said it just a flesh wound. They said I was real lucky and that I should recover in a couple of days or so. What about you!? You got kidnapped by a bunch of terrorists, and the next thing I know, you’re here safe and sound. What the hell happened?” He asked with a forceful curiosity.

 

Elea sighed heavily, deadpanning. “You know Griffin, I’m honestly not quite sure myself.” She said, remembering how today was anything but uneventful.

 

Before she could continue, there was a knock at the door behind her. A moment later, it opened up to reveal the officer. Elea was about to question what he was doing, but then she noticed the paper in his hand. A bright white envelope was quickly handed to her. “Letter for Elea Stendhal.” And without another word, the door shut once more, leaving the two of them alone in the room.

 

Elea hesitated, staring at the door for a moment, flipped the paper over in her hand. A seal depicting a golden helmet against a dark blue background stood to meet her, the word “OCMF” also in gold upon the seal. Griffin stared like a hawk at the letter in his friend’s hand, both of them curious as to what it was doing here. Without a second thought, she tore the seal open, pulling out the letter inside.

 

_ “Dear Elea Stendhal. _

 

_ This letter is to inform you that you have been selected to serve in the Omni Continental Military Forces, or O.C.M.F. You have been chosen by an algorithm that has found you as a highly impoverished individual who is in good mental and physical health, and thus you have been declared fit for service. You have been assigned this task in as an opportunity to improve yourself physically, financially, and socially. _

 

_ Please report to your nearest recruiting station within the next 72 hours. Failure to attend is not a legal option.  _

 

_ For any questions: Head to your nearest recruiting station and give your information, including any information relating to the university you attend. _

 

_ -Signed, The Omnicontinental Democratic Council” _

 

Elea was dumbstruck. Algorithm? What algorithm? She had been found as a highly impoverished individual. As much as she hated to admit it, it was probably just a fancy way of calling her out as poor. She honestly had no idea how to react to this news. Yesterday she was worried about how she was going to pay off her tuitions fees, not to mention her mother’s medical bills. Now she was concerned about whether she’d end up as a dead body on some god-forsaken tundra wasteland.

 

She should have been feeling sad, or scared, or angry. She should have felt something. But instead, she barely felt anything at all at the revelation. She didn't know how she was supposed to feel. Maybe it was the pure shock that kept her from registering any emotion.

 

“Elea.”

 

She blinked, thrown back down to earth. A quick glance at Griffin revealed the worry on his face.  “What’s it say?” He asked, apparently noticing Elea’s unnerving at the contents of the letter.

 

“They drafted me?” Elea said like a question. Even after reading the letter with her own two eyes, she still had trouble believing it.

  
  


His eyes widened “Omni drafted you? Woah woah, hold up. This has to be some mistake.” Griffin suggested, pulling his holo from the side of his bed. He flipped it open, frantically searching for the address of the nearest recruiting station. “Maybe they got your citizen profile mixed up with another.” He said, scrolling through the online map as fast as his fingers would allow. Like an attorney, he was desperate to find any evidence to acquit his companion of these heinous charges.

But Elea had already lost hope in his efforts. “My name.” She said softly. Barely loud enough for Griffin to hear. He stopped swiping through the data feed on his holo, looking up for a moment to make eye contact with his friend. His head was cocked to the side as he glanced over. Elea could see how puzzled he was. “What?” He finally seemed to manage to ask.

“My n-name.” She said, louder this time. “They put my full name in the letter. They knew I was from a university, too.” She pointed out. She could feel something rising in her throat. Her chest suddenly felt like it weighed like a ton of bricks. Her face started to feel like it was going numb. Was she about to cry? 

 

Griffin paused, slowly starting to put together what Elea was trying to say. Slowly, he lowered his holo in defeat. The whole room fell into silence between the two of them. The only sound that was there was the hushed buzzing of the lightbulb’s electricity, the rain, and the army and police vehicles still patrolling outside. Tears began to well up in her eyes as Elea tried desperately to choke them back.

 

“So what are you going to do now?” Griffin finally asked.

 

Elea leaned forward in her chair and held her head in her hands as she began to ruminate on her possible options. Her brain swirled like a vortex trying to find the best possible one. She listed them in her head from the range of ‘absolutely horrendous’ to ‘literal nightmare.’

Option one was that she go to the recruiting station and try to plead her case. Do anything to get out of the draft. Maybe she’d get lucky and the recruiting officer there would be sympathetic to her plight and change around some paperwork so that no one would be any the wiser. Maybe they wouldn’t.

Option two was to accept it and serve her time. With any luck, she’d be assigned a logistics station far far away from the frontlines. Elea mentally sighed, she was just trying to be optimistic, and she knew it. She’d still be delayed in her college courses, and with both her and Griffin being gone, there’d be no one to support her mother.

Both of those options had a chance of her being assigned to San Hugel. Being forced into service against her will was already terrible, but being forced to go to San Hugel was worse. She had heard stories from the news. About how soldiers were given orders to be deployed to San Hugel. It was like being told they were going to die, and now that Elea could be going there herself, fear pierced her very core.

 

Unless...There was a third option. It was risky, but honestly, it was probably her best chance. If she played her cards right, she could still support her mother and live to see twenty. That would get her two out of three. Maybe.

 

“What are you going to do?” Griffin asked, repeating himself.

 

Elea lifted her head from her hands and made direct eye contact with him. 

“I can’t do this, Grif. I just can’t. I have to run.” She decided. Even then, she was unsure of herself.


	3. Et tu, Imperium?

**** “That sounds like a terrible idea.” Griffin berated through the holo’s video call.

 

Elea continued to pack, stuffing as many extra changes of clothes she could into her one and only backpack. “I know what you’re going to say, But I’m not going to join the military. And I am certainly not going to San Hugel, alright?” Elea had settled on her decision, marking one of the few time she wasn’t going to budge as easily. 

 

Griffin only watched with a shallow scowl as she kneeled down, pushing a cluster of non-perishable snacks into a large backpack alongside the clothes. “What about your university work?” He asked in a vain attempt to reason with her.

 

But Elea was quick-witted on the counter. “Going to the university is pretty nice. You know what’s nicer? Not dying.” She immediately shot back. 

 

“Besides, I’m not to just drop all my courses entirely. I’ll just lay low for a couple of months until this whole Black Monday thing boils down. I can still take care of my mom, too. That gets me two out of three.” She said. Griffin could only sigh in exasperation. 

 

“What about those insurgents that tried to take you? What if more of them show up?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose from the other side of the screen.

 

Elea paused for a moment or two, a bag of snacks she was packing still in her hand. Honestly, that was a good question. There weren’t many places that she knew would take her in. There would even fewer places she knew of that would help her hide from people like that. But there was one place. It wasn’t exactly off-the-grid and in the wilderness, but it would have to do.

 

“I can take a swift-rail to the northern sector. My mom’s house is still up there. As far as the government is concerned, it only has one resident. I don’t think they should look for me there.” She planned out, going right back to packing. Griffin sat on the side of his bed. It didn’t take her too long to fill her backpack to the brim with clothes, food, water bottles, money. Everything she’d needed for the trip to the northern sector. It wasn’t exactly doomsday prepper material, but it should be enough to hold her until she makes to her mom’s small rural home. She zipped up the last and largest pocket on the backpack.

 

The red-haired runner turned her head, glancing back to Griffin, who had merely been watching her pack the entire time. “What are you looking at me for?” He asked. “It’s not like I can really stop you.” He said, crossing his arms. Elea couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty for up and almost leaving her friend behind in a near panic. Elea looked at the floor in remorse.

 

Griffin sighed, rolling his eyes. “Just stay safe, alright?” It was short, but she could see the genuine concern for her well-being flowed from him and into his words. 

 

“I will.” She promised.

 

She heaved the backpack upon her, carrying it on only her left shoulder. Walking towards the door, about to grab the shiny yellow doorknob, she stopped for a moment. She stared at the pseudo-brass, thinking for a moment. In all the panic in rushing to create a plan and get prepared, she had almost forgotten one crucial detail. This was probably going to be the last time she would see Griffin for a very long time. She glanced back the way she came. 

 

“What are you going to do?” She was pretty sure she already knew the answer, but she asked anyway.

 

Griffin shrugged nonchalantly. “Recover. After that who knows? I’ll probably just join up with the army and figure it out from there.” He pointed out. Elea stared at him for a moment more, unconvinced in his answer. It didn’t take too long for him to take the hint.

 

“Look, I’ll be fine. I’m not gonna throw myself into the line of fire like it’s a bad action movie or something. I can take care of myself.” He declared as if to beckon Elea to go already. Elea frowned. It wasn’t for long, but just enough for him to notice. They both knew she remained unconvinced. 

 

“Besides-” He began. “-I’m more worried about you, to be honest.” Griffin wasn’t really convinced that Elea’s plan was going to work if he was being honest with himself. She grabbed a pair of aviators and a grey beanie off the table. Griffin watched her quickly wrap the disguise around her head. “There you go. Now I can barely recognize you.” He complimented, giving the redhead runaway a thumbs up.

Elea looked at herself in the mirror, trying to pull the beanie over herself so that it covered as much as possible. The whole room got darker with the introduction of the sunglasses to her eyes. At least she looked pretty slick wearing these shades. 

 

Warm clothes for Autumn in the north? Check. Backpack full of supplies? Check. Questionably sound but temporarily ample disguise? Check. Looks like she was good to go. She waved a final goodbye to Griffin. He silently returned the gesture before ending the call. She slipped the holo into her pocket and walked out the door.

 

This was it, no more help. Elea was on her own now.

 

She hopped in the elevator and pressed the first-floor button with her thumb. Anxiety once again returned, trying to take over. Elea forced it down. She had a plan, and had what was needed. The elevator pinged, opening the thick metal doors to the building’s lobby. Time to go.

The rain had stopped, leaving a thick foggy mist hanging about in the air. Puddles still remained, as the occasional car or military vehicle sped by, spraying a blast of rainwater across the adjacent sidewalk. With merely the press of a couple of buttons on her holo, a drone-cab was sent to her position. 

 

She was badly trying to get away from OCMF, from San Hugel, from all of it. But despite that, she couldn’t help but have a thirst for knowledge. If the worst-case scenario came to pass, she needed to know what she was up against. Elea knew that there was a war in San Hugel. She knew the city was in ruins. But she didn’t know much else. 

The war itself seemed like an abstract idea when she was younger. Just something that would make the headlines on television every once in a while. She never cared before because there was never a reason to. It was always so far, far away. At least until yesterday.    

Thumbs tapped away at the matte glass screen, typing ‘Omni Continental Military Forces’ into a search engine. Within only a moment, millions of results had popped up. Her finger subconsciously tapped on the digital link to OCMF’s main page. She was greeted by that same golden blue logo once more. She scrolled down until she found a tab that said ‘San Hugel.’ She hesitated, her index finger hovering just over the page that would give her what information she desired.

 

As if on cue, the drone-cab pulled up in front of her on the curb. She didn’t even need to look up as it’s rear door opened. As soon as she climbed in and buckled her seatbelt, the sliding door sealed shut behind her. A small lightscreen popped up in the backseat of the driverless car, an entry for a GPS destination. Elea punched in the address for the nearest swiftrail station. As the driverless vehicle lurched forward, she returned her attention to her holo. 

Without thinking, she tapped on the tab for San Hugel. It instantly opened up a page with a wall of text,  a translucent photo of the ruined city’s skyline in the background behind the text. 

 

_ “San Hugel, a once great city, annihilated by war. _

 

_ Once, this city held a different name as a part of a different nation. That nation, Russia, fought back against the Omnicontinental in significant battles during the Intercontinental Wars. When Russia finally surrendered, it’s economy was in shambles. Its strength was shattered, and its people were desperate for a reprieve. _

 

_ Though Omni’s relief efforts were met with harsh protest by the Russian people at first, they gradually assimilated once we showed them the opportunities we offered them. Where the starving dwelled, we gave them food. Where the sick withered, we gave them medicine. And in Russia’s darkest hour, we helped pull them back to their feet as part of something higher than the petty squabbles of individual nations. _

 

_ Just when peace had seemingly been established, the Insurgency attacked, inflicting the White Sea incident on the members of our brave military. They turned the still recovering city into a warzone once more, and now we fight to bring it back. Every day we send soldiers and supplies into San Hugel to crush the Insurgency that plagues the city. To help the people. To make the once great city whole again. _

_ And if you sign up to join the cause, you can make a difference.” _

 

Elea pouted. Well, THAT didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. The text had mentioned some new information to her, though. Something about an incident in the White Sea. Her hands returned the keyboard made out of pure light once more. Typing those two keywords into the search bar. Before any results could pop up, however, the unmanned taxi slowly began to crawl to a halt.

Looking outside the window, the entrance to the swiftrail station stood to greet her. She found it hard to believe that she was already at her destination. Weird how quickly time passed when she was busy. She slipped her holo into her backpack. Stepping out onto the cement sidewalk, she lugged her only possession on her shoulder before closing the door on the driverless car. It merely shut and sat idle at its position, waiting for its next patron. 

At least she always had free public transportation.

 

The escalator down underground to the swiftrail was massive. It seemed like it went on and on forever, it must have been at least 150 feet underground. She stepped onto it’s continuously moving steps, patiently waiting as the mechanical machine slowly carried her down to the swiftrail station. Thoughts and emotions swirled through her brain.

What would she do in the nightmare scenario that she was drafted to San Hugel as a frontline soldier, anyways? She hadn’t really planned anything out, besides just hoping that it would never happen. She didn’t have time to wonder for long however, as the long escalator journey finally seemed to come to an end. Below her stretched out a plethora of people, all of them waiting for their scheduled swiftrail to show up. They all were all in one line or another, though. Very orderly. The last time Elea had visited they were just scattered about, not in a neat line or anything like that. Weird.

 

Then Elea saw why, and her heart sank.

 

There they were waiting for her again, like a plague. The soldiers with rifles in the green and grey uniforms. They were the reason everyone was standing in a line. Full body searches were being given to each potential passenger along each line. The people conversed quietly among themselves. Besides the noise of the swiftrails, they were the only noise in the whole station. If she were to try to get in line with them, she would inevitably be caught. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out a way to get through without being detected. She sat down at a metal bench just outside the scan and search area.

Her options now were to either turn back and find an alternate way out of the city, or go to the recruiting officer. She mused on the idea of just going through the line and push her luck as far as it would go. That idea was about as dumb as trying to fist fight a brick wall, though. Looks like she’d need to find a new way out of here. She got up from the bench, making a U-turn headed back towards the escalator from which she came.

 

“Hey! You there!” A soldier called out from among the crowd. 

 

The redhead froze like a statue. What little conversation there was in the well-lit underground station died down in an instant as nearly everyone turned their attention to him. When Elea looked back, that same soldier was pointing their finger directly at her. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates as panic consumed her.

Without thinking, Elea turned heel and sprinted for the escalators. “STOP!” She heard another soldier shout in a gravelly voice from behind her. She didn’t listen, she just focused on what was, essentially, running for her life. Within moments, two soldiers were right on her tail like hunting dogs. She could hear their heavy footsteps hitting the ground. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as Elea dodged and bumped through the crowd of people still coming down from the escalators. She hopped over the machine’s railing, jumping up and dashing for the exit about a hundred feet up. 

 

She looked back for the slightest of moments. The two soldiers chasing her were about a solid forty feet behind her. Their own heavy body armor and the civilian crowd in their way slowed them down. She faced back for the exit, continuing to make her daring escape from the swiftrail station.

Her lungs ached the more she ran up the escalator, using its motion to push her up even further and faster. The glasses that Griffin had given her fell off her face as she ran, crushed and crinkled under her tennis shoes. She could see the flash of afternoon daylight up ahead. Escape was just a few more seconds away, and then she could disappear into a building. 

 

A single person was standing at the top of the escalator. Elea couldn’t really see them as her eyes squinted, as they were still getting used to the natural light over the artificial ones in the swiftrail station. As soon as she was near the top, the aire of mystery around the figure was lifted like a veil. They were holding something in their right hand, and they were adorned in green and gray fatigues.

In their hand they held a something that looked like a gun, it’s menacing muzzle pointed directly at Elea’s chest. She didn’t even have time to react before a pair of orange pellets came flying out of the weapon’s barrel. The spherical slugs rammed into her like a baseball bat to the gut. She grimaced, trying to scream in pain. But the air was sucked out of her lungs as the shockwave tossed and turned her internal organs. The impact stung like hell, and her skin felt as if it was on fire.

The liquid material had the same consistency as raw honey at first, before hardening like stone, encompassing her entire chest. She felt like she was wearing a straightjacket made of rock. With what momentum she had, Elea collapsed to her knees. She slammed face first into the hard stone sidewalk like a sack of bricks. Her entire world went white as stars filled her vision. She coughed and sputtered as the liquid solution encompassing everything from her waist to her neck hardened like concrete.

She sniffled, trying to pull herself back into consciousness. Her vision was spotty at best after having the side of her face become an acquainted with the ground. She turned slightly, spotting two blurry figures rushing towards her. Two green and grey figures. She sighed in defeat. Soon they were upon her. That was it. Her daring attempt at a grand escape had been shot to pieces, quite literally, within just a few seconds.

 

She was pulled to her feet by both soldiers as her vision began to clear. A small crowd began to form around three of them, although they kept their distance. Elea blinked once, blinked twice, and squinted as her vision finally cleared. She felt something warm and runny trickle down her face to her chin. She would’ve checked what it was, but both her arms were paralyzed thanks to whatever that weird chemical solution covering her was. 

 

She glanced over to the soldier who had shot her just seconds ago. “What have you got, corporal?” He asked in a casual curiosity to one of the soldiers currently restraining Elea from moving at all. The captured woman didn’t bother to respond, she was still too busy catching her breath after her harrowing and very painful experience of being shot with...whatever the hell that was. 

 

Elea couldn’t make out much from looking at the person who had just shot her. His military goggles were tinted so black that she couldn’t see his eyes at all. The fact that he was wearing a helmet didn’t exactly help either. He was Hispanic, boasting a burn mark on his left cheek. That much she could see. Other than that, it was difficult to spot any distinguishing features on his face.

 

“Got a runner, sergeant.” The corporal holding her reported in a bland monotone voice. 

 

“Lemme guess-” The sergeant walked up to his incapacitated target. “-you a draft dodger?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

Elea was a bit surprised, to say the least. How could this guy know that just from looking at her? “How did you-” She asked. She was quickly interrupted by the military man. “Hell, we must’ve caught at least 15 just like you in the last four hours alone. Get in line, kid. You’re not special.” He lazily raised both his eyebrows, seemingly annoyed with Elea’s mere presence.

 

Her brow furrowed, her thoughts were troubled. There were that many more like her? Was that how unpopular the draft truly was? She didn’t have much time to think of it as the two soldiers turned her around.

“Hey. Your bag, that’s why I called you out in the crowd.” The corporal that was detaining her informed her. 

Elea was perplexed. “Huh?” She wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

 

“I called ya’ out because you left your backpack on the bench. If you hadn’t started running the second I pointed at you, none of us would’a been any the wiser.” He explained in a noticeable Bostonian accent. It was only then that Elea realized that her backpack was nowhere to be seen. She mentally cursed herself for being such an idiot. She’d lost her head out of fear, and it had cost her. 

 

“What do we do with her?” The other soldier, the one that wasn’t a corporal, asked.

 

The sergeant was only long-faced in response. “Throw her in the pitbull and drop her off at the R.S. After that, she’ll be somebody else’s problem.” He ordered, gesturing nonchalantly towards Elea before turning to walk away. The crowd quickly dispersed right after that. No order was needed, they knew that if they loitered around a scene like that for too long, they were bound to get involved in it. And getting involved in a crime scene was the last thing any of them wanted to do with the martial law around.

 

They lugged a powerless Elea over to an armored car. It’s drab gray paint, and the prison-like bars that adorned it’s back windows was a frustrating sight. They stopped just to the side of it. One of her captors pulled a small bottle of water, unscrewing it. The rifleman poured its contents on the hardened stinger-shot still attached to Elea’s chest and stomach. Within seconds, it cracked became brittle like candy. She moved a little bit, and the whole thing fell apart into a thousand pieces, freeing her limbs once more. Without another thought, they chucked her into the backseat, locking the door behind her.

 

Great. That’s just great.

 

She harrumphed, crossing her arms and slumping back in the hard sheet metal seat. It was then she realized the feeling of something trickling down her face. It dripped onto her hoodie, still stained with orange dust from the stinger. Except the liquid dripping onto her jacket wasn’t orange, it was red. A bright, deep red. 

Her index and middle finger touched her cheek. She retraced them, examining what the mystery liquid was. Blood stained both fingers, the crimson liquid indenting itself into her fingerprints, similar to ink. Probably from an opened gash from her fall after getting tagged in the world’s most painful game of paintball. She lowered her face into her hoodie, wiping the excess blood off with the chest cloth of the jacket.

The corporal and his comrade opened the trunk of the armored car, unceremoniously tossing Elea’s valuables into it with a loud thunk before shutting the trunk. They walked around and climbed into the pitbull’s front seats. Starting up the artificial diesel engine, the corporal put the clutch in drive, powering away from the scene of the crime.

 

Elea was exhausted, even though it was only the afternoon. She’d barely attained any sleep in the past two days, and that chase had sucked any energy she had left out of her. Here eyelids became as heavy as bowling balls. Before she knew it, she had passed out in the back of the armored car.

She awoke to the sound of a fist clanging on metal. She sat up with a start, rubbing her eyes. She looked to her left to see who was responsible for so rudely awakening her. It was none other than that very same corporal. His face held no expression. It was as if he had done this a million times before. She sighed in annoyance scooting over to the door as the corporal opened it.

 

She hopped out of the pitbull, her sneakers hitting the ground that was still damp from the rain. It was evening again, the sky painted a gorgeous orange. Her two fingers reactively touched her cheek in the same place again, but this time nothing stuck to them. The blood must have dried up while she was asleep. The only question was how long? She would have asked the soldier, but Elea knew he didn’t have an answer for her. Only orders.

 

He motioned the green-eyed girl towards a small flat-roof building with only one set of doors. There it was, the one place she had tried so hard to avoid, only to inevitably end up right in front of its doors. The OCMF recruiting office. They weren’t precisely recruiting Elea of her own will. She frowned, following the soldier’s silent orders as she strolled up the wide cobblestone flat stairs towards the office. At least the corporal’s friend was kind enough to push the glass door aside for her.

She walked in to find the place crowded to the brim. Soldiers and civilians alike conversed with one another, mostly about topics related to work and service. Holo’s ringtones chimed and blared. The ceiling fans were at max power, spinning around like helicopter rotor blades. It was anything but calm and serene. 

 

Without any room for hesitation or insubordination, she was dragged over to an open spot at the front desk, a clerk with a silver miner's mustache looked up. A stale toothpick hung from his mouth as his glasses began to slide down his face. Jeez with the lack of emotion this guy had, Elea might have thought he and the hospital clerk were related. 

 

“Draft-dodger?” He asked like he’d done this a million times before.

 

“Uhm… Y-Yeah.”

 

Slapping the logbook onto the bleached wood desk, he plucked the toothpick from his mouth and flicked it into a nearby trash bin. As he nabbed a spare pencil off of his office desk, he looked back up at the newest addition to the Omni Continental Military Forces. 

Before he even started writing, however, the soldier pushed the glasses up his face and stared long and hard at the teenager standing in front of him. His brow furrowed as she timidly waited for the soldier to finish sizing her up.

 

“Full name?” He went back to work in his logbook, not even bothering to make eye contact with the nerve-racked woman in front of him.

 

“Elea Stendhal.”

 

The pencil quickly went to work, scribbling down onto the logbook’s paper. The military man's attention shifted over to a desktop lightscreen. Quickly typing something into the keyboard, the logistics worker raised his eyebrows for a second, before blinking. His facial expressions screamed of ‘disappointed but not surprised.’

“Another one, huh?” He couldn’t help but ask in an interrogating tone as he continued to scan through the data on his lightscreen. 

 

Elea could only nervously fidget in place as he continued to read through what was presumably Elea’s identity file, now permanently scarred with a criminal record. She didn’t bother to respond.

 

“You’re gonna be put in a temporary holding cell until the bus arrives. It’s nothing too serious, just putting you in a room to make sure you don’t run off.” He mumbled loudly. The lumps of flesh flapped up and down on his cheeks like the lips of a bulldog. His bushy mustache bobbed up and down as he spoke.

 

“There’s nothing I can do about this? I thought there were laws against college students getting drafted!” Elea began to plead, still looking for a way out. The clerk knew it was futile, the soldier behind her knew it too. Even Elea herself knew it, she just didn’t want to admit defeat to herself. The clerk only shook his head.

 

“I haven’t heard no laws about that. If there were any, I guess they overruled them or something, I dunno.”

 

Wait, overrule laws? Can the government even do that? She’d read a little about laws here and there, but she wasn’t exactly studying to become a lawyer. It was entirely possible that she was wrong. Still, there was the possibility she was right. Her brow furrowed.

 

“Anyways, since I got your full name I already got access to the rest of your citizen profile. Go ahead and take her to room E11 down that hall.” The old clerk raised his left hand off the keyboard. His arm as straight and rigid as a traffic sign, he pointed to a hallway that led further into the building. Wasting no time, the corporal grabbed Elea’s arm, escorting her down the hall.

 

When she finally got there, it wasn’t even really a cell with bars in the back of the office like she had imagined. It was just a squeaky clean white hallway full of cheap but sturdy tan wooden doors. The led her to one of them on the right side of the hall. She didn’t bother to try and distinguish which door it was, they were all the same. The corporal unlocked it and guided her in. Well, it probably wouldn’t do her any good, but at this point, anything was worth a shot. She cranked her head to the side to look at the soldier.

 

“Isn’t there anything you can do? I don’t think I can do this…” Elea pleaded once again.

 

The corporal only hung his head, exhaling in pity. “Sorry ma’am, the powers that be made the call, not me. I’m just following orders.” Without another word, he stepped out of the room, closing and locking the thick wooden door behind him. With a turn and a click, Elea was trapped with no hope of escape.

 

Now she was truly alone. Her only company was four white brick walls and a small chair that looked like something you’d see in a high school detention room. She sighed deeply. She had hit rock bottom.

 

Well, at the very least, things could only go up from here. Right?

 

Right?


	4. Fun While It Lasted

**** The walls felt like they were closing in on Elea. Like she was stuck in one of those junkyard trash compactors that could turn a car into a small metal cube. Anxiety tugged at her muscles. A deep and unrelenting frown spread across her face as she stared at the white brick wall. The student quickly checked her abdomen. A giant red welt had formed from the impact of the non-lethal projectile. Elea sighed, she’d probably seen a million lousy action movies. Faceless soldiers getting cut down like grass for the sake of the plot.

 

She never thought she’d end up becoming one, though.

 

Some more research into San Hugel, the military, and the Insurgency should have been in order, but she couldn’t do any. The backpack, along with her holo, was still stuck in the back of that armored car. They had told her that they were going to send her personal items back to her mother’s house up in the Northern Sector. She had ten credits on a bet with herself that said that was a lie. That was probably the last she was ever going to see of that backpack. Oh well, at least she knew she was going to win that bet.

 

Just then, the door to the room that held its prisoner unlocked, creaking open. On the other side of the doorway stood two people. That green and grey military uniform adorned one of them. It hadn’t even been a full day, and she was getting sick of seeing it already. They were tall and muscular, easily towering over Elea. Though she noticed that he was noticeably shorter than that titan of a soldier that had rescued her from the van. With a square jaw and eyes that looked like stone, the guard indeed held the appearance of a pure brute.

But the other person standing next to them was different. Elea couldn’t tell who he was supposed to be right off the bat. The other person was shorter, around Elea’s height. He was balding, old, and wore rectangular glasses. The wrinkles on his face were a dead giveaway that he was nearing the age of retirement. Elea’s frown deepened into a scowl. Whatever they were here for, it likely wasn’t any good news for her.

 

The guard quietly stood at the door, his hands crossed behind his back as he eyed the prisoner he was assigned to watch over for the time being. The old man quietly sat at the other end of the tiny room from Elea.

 

He pinched the glasses off his face, cleaning them with a small teal cloth. “Do you know why you’re in here?” The old man asked, apparently curious to hear her answer. But Elea was tight-lipped, not saying a word in response. An awkward silence filled the room for two, maybe three seconds. The interrogator cocked an eyebrow, somewhat perplexed that Elea didn’t instantly answer. Was he expecting her to plea for her freedom? To charge him in a blind fury for imprisoning her even though a guard was standing right there? Elea had no idea what he wanted from her.

 

“Well, you already know why you’re here. But I suppose the elephant in the room is what happens to you now.” He continued, still trying to garner some sort of response out of Elea. Still, she refused to reply verbally. Only shifting in her seat, making uncomfortable eye contact with her interrogator. The only sound was the electric buzz of the gallium lightbulb overhead. After a seeming eternity in that room with the three of them, the old interrogator finally relented. 

 

“Listen, I know being drafted can seem very scary, but this isn’t going to be some meat grinder that you had no choice in. There are benefits to this.” The old man leaned back in his tiny plastic chair and crossing his arms casually. 

 

Benefits? What benefits could a draftee like herself ever hope to receive? 

 

“Such as?” Was all Elea could muster.  

 

“We’re aware that your mother is suffering from a rare condition known as Fibrodysplasia.” The interrogator said. “If you join up, we can guarantee additional medical support for your mother.”

 

Elea couldn’t help but look up, her eyes widening in fear at this new information. The old man certainly had her attention, and he knew it. 

 

“What kind of additional medical support?” Her shoulders tensed.

 

“Oh...being put on a priority care list. Focused research as to her disease. Perhaps even a better treatment if they can find one?” The old man offered. 

Was this a deal of a lifetime, or a deal with the devil? Elea had no way to be sure.

 

“What about my university work? My tuition?”

 

“All of that will be covered by Omni if you stay on your contract. We’ve already cut out a special deal with the worldwide education system. You don’t need to worry about all that, trust me.”

 

Elea grated her teeth, her brow furrowing. She leaned forward in her chair, touching her elbows to her knees. Her sweaty palms clasped over each other as she rested her chin atop them.

Maybe this guy was telling the truth, that they could give the resources needed to treat her mother, perhaps even find a cure of some sort. Maybe this guy was just playing good cop, trying to butter her up into a signing a contract that would ruin her life. She sat limply in the chair for a moment, staring down at the composition tile. Even if this guy was bullshitting her, she couldn’t afford to pass up the chance for her mother’s sake. 

Elea sighed in defeat. It was just a chance she’d have to take. She didn’t know what she hated more, the fact that this stupid interrogator had her by the short hairs or the fact that he damn well knew it.

 

“And I don’t think I have to tell you what happens to that medical support if you decided to desert.” That was the final nail in the coffin. No way Elea could back out now.

  
  
  


He pulled his glasses off his face once more, setting them in his lap as he pulled a small paper list out his pocket. “You know if it’s any consolation…” He began, hardly paying attention to the girl’s plight. “...the draftee contract only last two and a half years. That’s only half of what a voluntary soldier would have to agree to.” Maybe he said that out of a genuine attempt to make Elea feel somewhat better. At this point what did it matter?

 

Elea exhaled long and hard out of her nostrils. “So I’m going to be put into a military boot camp for training?” She questioned, making direct eye contact with her federally administered tormentor. “That’s correct.” The old man confirmed, cocking his head to one side.

“What happens if I fail training?” Elea asked, a slight tinge of desperation clinging to her voice. The old man only shrugged, jutting out his lower lip as if to declare himself innocent of any heinous crime. “Well...you have the option to restart and try again. Either that or you get 120 days in jail and a permanent criminal record, and then you get let out.” He explained.

 

“Don’t worry, boot camp isn’t nearly as hard as it sounds. Not unless you join up with the Agema program.” He finished, writing something down on his little notepad. Externally the scarlet-haired draftee managed to keep her cool, but inside she was in emotional shambles. Two and half years of her life, gone? Just like that? She had no say in it, no chance to fight against it, nothing. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as the gravity of the whole situation finally began to set in. Horror and dread; those were the only two emotions she found herself feeling.

 

It seemed like the only sound in the room now was the sound of the old man with glasses flipping through his paper notes. He scanned each and every page with care, before flipping to the next one. Finally, he settled on one. 

“Hmmm. Elea Stendhal….Looks like you’ve been selected to transfer to….Fort Onder-hak as part of fireteam Gamma.” He reported, glancing up from his precious notepad. Elea barely even registered his tone. She was still looking at the floor with a dumbstruck look on her face. “Good luck, I guess.” That was the only other thing the old man said before standing up from his chair. A creak and a slam of the wooden door were the only signals that the old man had left her alone to wade through her own despair and disbelief.

 

She’d never heard of this Fort Onder-hak, let alone this Gamma squad. Her elbows rested on her knees as she sat. Her right hand curled into a fist touching her lips, while her left hand curled over the fist. 

She inhaled deeply. She exhaled deeply. 

 

If she thought she hated waiting before, without a doubt, she hated this so much more. It was only after a solid ten or so seconds that Elea realized that the guard was still in the room. He walked over to her, clutching the keys in his big meaty left hand.

 

“Come on. Time to go.” He said, standing aside to let Elea out of the room.

 

Go? Go where? Elea tensed up, gripping her kneecaps. She wasn’t being sent to boot camp already, was she? She visibly hesitated, long enough for him to notice. He rolled his eyes, annoyed with her. He quickly pulled out a packet from his pocket, unsheathing a cigarette and letting it dangle in his cracked lips.

 

“You’re not in trouble, you’re just getting your phone call, that’s all.” He mumbled through chewing his tobacco.

 

“Phone call?” 

 

“By law, even draftees get one phone call back home before they ship off. It’s just to tell your parents you haven’t been kidnapped, so don’t bother calling a lawyer or whatever.”

 

Elea furrowed her brows, her lips curling into a confused smirk as her nostrils flared in disbelief. 

 

“You’ve had people call for lawyers before?”

 

The boot let out a hearty guffaw. The type of grunting laugh you’d only hear from a dirty joke or watching some poor fool fall off their bike and into a puddle. He lit his cigarette, taking a short and hard drag before puffing smoke towards the room’s ceiling.

 

“Yeah, well….you’d be surprised.”

 

Elea lifted herself from her chair, following the man down the hallway. Back in the lobby once again. To the left and far enough away from everyone else stood a couple of landline phones. How they hadn’t been replaced by modern technology, she had no idea. The hard plastic shell of the handset pulsated in her hand as she picked it up. The dial tone buzzed softly as she put the receiver up to her ear. She stared at the number pad, a blank expression adorned her face. She’d been through so much in the past few days, how would she even begin to tell mom? Elea had no idea how she’d react, and honestly? It frightened her. Avoiding putting any more stress on her mom was a big priority for her, and here she was about to go against it. Hesitantly, she dialed her mom’s number. The drone of the continuous dial tone switched to a pulsating buzz. Come on mom, just pick up already.

A click on the other end of the line slightly spiked her adrenaline levels.

 

“Hello?” A weak voice rasped out. A voice that sounded like it belonged to someone that could barely work, or move, or even talk without assistance.

 

“Hi, mom.” Elea began. Normally she’d be happy to call. But thanks to everything, her tone was somber and defeated.

 

“Elea? Oh my goodness, are you alright? I heard about that awful thing with the bomb and-”

 

Elea leaned up against the wall in front of her, pressing her forehead into her left arm against the drywall.

 

“Mom, I’m fine. I was far away when it happened.”

 

An audible sigh of relieved sounded from the other end of the line. Elea knew she didn’t have much time, she had to keep going before she ran out of time. For a fraction of a moment, she considered telling her mother about the incident where she was almost kidnapped. But she quickly realized it wouldn’t do any good to put extra stress on mom considering what Elea was about to tell her anyways.

 

“Mom, are you aware that they’ve started to draft people into the military?” Elea asked.

 

Her mother chuckled a bit. “Oh, I thought that was just a rumor. Is that true? I guess Mia was right about that after all. Why do you ask?” 

 

Elea didn’t reply. Not because she didn’t want to respond, but because she had no idea what words to use. It felt like no matter what she said, it would be too much for mom to handle. She desperately tried to come up with something, anything, to break the news to her as gently as possible, but her thoughts remained empty.

 

“Wait….Elea? Have you?.....No…..”

 

She waited patiently for a few moments. And then a few more moments. And then a few more. There was no response from the other end of the line. Damn it, did her call get disconnected? Stupid piece of junk landline. She was about to ask her mother if she was still there when she heard a faint sobbing emanating from the receiver. 

 

“Drafted?” Her mother sputtered out between sobs. “Oh god...Elea, please tell me that’s not true. Please tell me they’re not going to send you there.”

 

Elea could only close her eyes in guilt. This is precisely what she had been afraid of. Part of her wanted to lie, to tell her mom that it would only be a few months in a cushy logistics job deep in allied territory, if for nothing else, then to at least make her feel better. But she couldn’t bring herself to do that.

 

“I’m sorry, mom. I know this is hard, but I promise I’m going to do my best to stay safe, ok?” She offered in a futile attempt to reassure her that this was no big deal.

 

“What about your tuition? Your friends? Can’t you do anything to stop it? Anything??”

 

Elea pinched the bridge of her nose. If she could have bailed, she would have. But alas, the government had decided it was in their best interests to screw her over. Sorry mom, guess that’s just the way it goes.

  
  


“Promise me you’ll come home safe. That no matter what happens you’ll call often and come home as soon as you can.” Her mom demanded.

 

A shadow loomed over Elea. She swiveled her head to find the brutish soldier standing to her side, gesturing for her to wrap it up. She quickly brushed him off, as if to say she’d be done in a minute.

 

“I promise I’ll call home as much as I can and I promise I’m gonna be ok. I gotta go now, they’re waiting for me. I’ll make it work and be home before you know it, mom.”

 

“....Yeah, you’d better.” Her mother scolded. A slight chill shot up Elea’s spine. Even when she was crying, her voice still carried the weight of absolute authority behind it in the way only a mother’s voice could.

 

“Yeah, I know. Love you, mom. Bye.” 

 

“Goodbye.”

 

With a heavy hand a heavier heart, she clicked the receiver back into its landline port, ending the call. Even though it was over, her hand still gripped the phone like a vise for a few more seconds before she let it go. The guard silently motioned for her to follow, and she quickly heeded. Not out of a sense of obedience, though. They walked back towards the entrance to the recruitment office. Past the glass doors, she saw it.

 

A bus, it’s motor was idle and running. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why it was there or who it was waiting for. The guard moved past, pushing open the glass door for her.

 

“Good luck.” He said.

 

Funny how he said it like it was going to change anything for the better. All well, at least it was the thought that counted.

 

Without a second thought, she filed into to bus. The first thing that hit her when the bus doors hissed open was the bone-chilling wind and clamorous hum from the aging air conditioning unit. A sickeningly sweet aroma of sweat and plastic wafted throughout the vehicle’s poorly maintained air filtration system. Unceasing humming from the diesel engine whirred throughout the cabin. It was too loud, so loud that Elea could hardly think, let alone sleep over the noise and din.

 

Careful not to draw the attention of the anybody inside, especially the armed guards, she quietly and politely made her way down the vehicle’s crammed aisle. A couple of people shuffled out of the way to let her into a nearby seat.

Elea plopped down on her surprisingly cushy rubber bus seat next to a window. Despite how smeared the glass was with fingerprints and whatnot, she could still see outside reasonably clearly. The damp, misty air still hung around just a small bit, with the asphalt road adjacent to the bus slick with rainwater that was sure to evaporate in the next few days or so. The sun began to set once more as the day came to a close. The day had been one giant headache from morning to evening, and if boot camp was anywhere near as chaotic as she thought it might be, then that headache was about to get a whole lot bigger in about 24 hours.

 

She subtly glanced around at the fellow draftees that surrounded her. Some of these people didn’t look too worried. They looked like they were ready and willing to fight. Others seemed to be in the same boat as Elea, hanging their heads low as they fearfully waited for the inevitable. She couldn’t blame them. A few of them carried bruises on their faces and arms, likely having suffered the same fate as her when they tried to run. This crowd was made up of a diverse mix, minus the fact that there were all roughly the same age. 

 

The only other person to climb onto the already full bus after Elea was a soldier, a new one that Elea hadn’t seen before. Jeez, how many of these guys were there? Soon, they had populated the bus to the brim. He carried only a pistol and a baton, sitting at the front of the bus to protect the driver and guards the conscripts if she had to guess. Treating them like they were all prisoners who had committed no crime, it annoyed her to no end. He received a few dirty glares, but nothing more. No verbal protest, and certainly no physical resistance.

 

She had no idea where they were going, who she was going to be placed with, or what exactly they were going to do once they got to boot camp. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t even know why she was going to war. They already had plenty of troops, there wasn’t really any reason to bother drafting a bunch of nobodies who don’t want anything to do with this. All she could do now was sit and wait for it to be over. Elea sighed deeply, frowning.

 

She _still_ hated waiting.


	5. Onder-hak

**** When she next awoke, the plane had slowly begun its descent. The feeling of butterflies in her stomach from the negative g-forces nudged her awake. For a few seconds, she couldn’t remember anything. What she was doing, why she was doing it. She couldn’t even remember her own name. Then it all came back to her in a flood. Her name was Elea Stendhal, she was on a plane headed towards Coanda International Airport in Romanian territory. She was heading there because she had been….drafted into boot camp.

 

God damn it.

 

Elea pouted, her nose scrunching up until it looked like a wrinkled ball. Maybe she should just close her eyes and go back to sleep. The entire plane starting to shake and rattle like an earthquake quickly changed her mind. She was jolted awake, her eyes shot open. Her vision glancing and dodging around like a rabbit hearing a jackal. She pulled open the window covering next to her looking out the side of the plane in a near panic. An asphalt tarmac, luscious green fields, and suburban Romania stood to greet her. Ah, they were landing. A long deep yawn rolled its way out of her mouth.

 

Instead of stepping into a terminal gateway, they were greeted with a direct stairway straight to a bus. Elea moved with the crowd unenthusiastically, like a pack of zombies slowly slugging along the concrete. They sat down on the new bus, not as stank as the other one, but the same stench was definitely still present. There wasn’t much conversation on the bus at all. Sure, there was the odd socialite here and there who wanted to get to know the people around them. Maybe they were just doing it out of habit. Perhaps they were doing it because they needed to do something to ease their nerves. Whatever the reason it didn’t matter much since it always ended with them being ignored or told to shut up, which they promptly obliged.

 

The ride to the boot camp was uneventful at first, but the farther they got from the airport, the more she began to notice it. This was to be Budapest, a city that was supposed to be full of life and culture and people. Yet there seemed to be hardly anyone around at all, well, not counting soldiers. There was hardly any non-military personnel in sight, the place looked like a ghost town. Elea wanted to ignore it, she of all people should know that more significant problems loomed on the horizon. If she’d get an answer to her inquiry of the town’s population, she’d just have to find out later, because they were starting to approach the base itself. A rectangular metal plate hung from two poles the size of lamp posts. Etched into was the bright yellow wording, it’s font sharp and minimalist.

 

“Welcome to Fort Onder-hak”

 

Hmph, she didn’t really feel welcome. As soon as they all saw that sign, any positive energy, any hope that this was all a bad dream and that they’d get to go home was instantly dashed. The redhead recruit didn’t bother to restrain herself from physically rolling her eyes, leaning her head against the hard plexiglass of the bus window. The bus pulled off from the road to the front of a building. It shared a lot of similarities with the recruitment office with its box design and boring, dull colors. The main difference was that this building was bigger. A lot bigger. On each side of that square building stretched a fence to each end of the horizon. She rubbed her eyes and scratched her cheek, sitting up.

 

From the moment they were all but shoved off the bus, everything seemed to become a blur. The drill sergeant running up onto the bus and yelling at them, the running, the blinding sterile white lights, the speech about how expendable and worthless they were, her separation from the rest of the group. All of it seemed to go by in a hazy, almost drug-addled flash. 

Before she even realized it, she was walking behind some soldier, following him like a mindless sheep to a shepherd. A shepherd with a fully automatic assault rifle. She would have looked up to see what the soldier looked like, but at that point, she didn’t really care. All these troopers looked like clones to her, all copies of one another in their green and gray fatigues.

 

“Where are we going?....” She asked the soldier leading her like a lost child in a hustling and bustling supermarket.

 

“D-Barracks.” The soldier grunted. Elea deadpanned, rolling her eyes at the blunt yet apt answer. Some people just had such a poetic way with words. Before she had the chance for a witty rebuttal, the soldier walked away. Elea shut her jaw and sighed, letting him go. She turned heel, her boots crunching in the gravel as she stared at her new….home? She guessed?

 

It was a building that looked like it would get an architecture student laughed at by their entire class, and then expelled from their college. In effect, all it was was a rectangle made of brick and cinder blocks with a slate plastic roof. As far as Elea could tell, that was literally it. To the side of the prefab lay a couple of plywood crates labeled with things such as bandages, spare wiring, and MRE’s. Moisture dripped from the bricks down onto the leafy brown mulch covering the ground. To say this placed looked like a dump would be a bit of an understatement.

 

She walked inside, expecting to see the soldiers waiting for her. But what was she to expect? There were a variety of scenarios that could present themselves.

 

For one, they could be like a pack of wild dogs. Always playing a constant dick-measuring contest. Always seeking out the weakest member. Always looking to pummel them into submission for their own entertainment. She’d seen a couple of war movies just like that. Whether that was a Hollywood caricature or a stereotype that held a kernel of truth was yet to be seen.

 

For another, they could all coolheaded killers. Some of the deadliest soldiers this side of the Atlantic could be waiting for her in there, ready to help train her to become a killing machine in the name of defending the Omnicontinental and all her territories, ideals, and peoples.

 

She had no idea what to expect, other than to expect the unexpected. The sky above her had twisted from a healthy blue with dots of white clouds to a stormy all-encompassing gray. Distant thunder boomed and rolled through the clouds above. How she hadn’t noticed it up until just now eluded her. 

Whatever, she couldn’t just wait out here all day, she’d need to head inside sooner or later. With a sigh of indignation and the strength of both of her arms, she pushed the thick metal doors, not bothering to look through the little plexiglass windows first. She didn’t get three steps past the doors before she stopped dead in her tracks.

 

What in the hell was going on here?

 

A look of pure concern and confusion was plastered across Elea’s face. In front of her was perhaps one of the stupidest things she had ever seen in her entire life. To the left of the barrack hall was a couple of recruits bunched up in a cluster, Their expressions of pure shock and horror mostly concealed behind the green cot they hit behind, as if it was some sort of shield. To the right side of the room were the majority of people. Some were reading books or cleaning their gear, not paying attention. Most of them were half-heartedly watching the scene at the center of the hall.

 

In the center of the barrack hall were a few out-of-uniform soldiers spread out in a circle on the wood. They looked like they were surrounding something, something Elea couldn’t see. They were yelling, nearly screaming commands and pleas as if they were betting on a high-stakes horse race. Elea found the agency to advance on the situation and saw what they were surrounding. It was a ring made of pure salt. A fighting ring about the size of a beach ball in its radius. The two participating gladiators appeared to be…..a rat and a grasshopper? Elea just stared dumbfoundedly as they hooted and hollered and guffawed at the top of their lungs. 

 

“Come on! Get his ass!”

 

“Put 10 on the rat! Daddy needs some new sandals!”

 

Their volume only increased as the rat pushed the grasshopper out of the ring before proceeding to eat it. Her face scrunched up in disgust at the sight of the victorious rodent scarfing down its hard-fought meal. 

 

“Aw come on! That’s bull!”

 

“Oohhhhh! Read ‘em and weep, motherfucker! Hand off the sandals!”

 

Some of the soldiers grabbed their own hair with looks of pained disbelief, glancing down at their chances of winning quite literally being swallowed whole. Others fist-pumped and shouted in joy, greedily raking in their earnings from the morning’s blood sport.

 

It must have been a solid thirty to forty seconds before anyone in the room even noticed Elea’s existence. A soldier reading a book while laying on their cot glanced up. 

 

"Hey, who the hell is that?" 

 

The noise didn’t even start to die down. Only a few heads turned to her, the rest being swept up in the climax of the action. She shuffled nervously in place, not really sure what to say at first. Then it began to come back to her as she remembered her talk with that old guy in the jail cell. Something about a….

 

   “I'm uh…..My name is Elea. I’m supposed to transfer here as part of ‘Fireteam Gamma?’” She asked sheepishly, crossing her hands in front of her as she scanned the room for any sort of reaction.

A man with short, well-combed hair and stern brow glanced up at her. Recognition crossed his face as he glanced at her strawberry red hair for slightest of moments. He folded the cloth he was using to clean the interior of his helmet into a neat little square, setting it aside.

 

   “YURI! MAVA!” He bellowed at the top of his lungs, still sitting upright on the side of his cot. The sheer volume he produced easily drowned out any other noise in the hall.

 

Instantly the whole room shut up. No one screamed or shouted, no one flipped through the pages of their book, no one even tossed and turned in their cots. Now everyone in the room was staring.

 

A short but brawny young man with disheveled blonde hair stood up. Apparently, he’d won the bet, as his arms were raked full with about four beef and ravioli MRE’s. His elation from victory still seemed to be etched onto his face. Another was a girl who’d been hiding behind the cot during the whole ordeal. Obviously, she appreciated insects and rodents as much as Elea did, which was to say she wanted nothing to do with them. She was taller, with black hair streaming down like a river. 

 

   “Your fireteam’s replacement arrived. Show freshmeat here where her shit’s being stowed.”

 

   Elea was taken aback at her new leader’s bluntness. Did he seriously just call her fresh meat? I mean yeah, she was new around here, but still. She scowled just a little bit. Thirty seconds in and she’d already come face to face with someone she knew she wasn’t going to like. The girl who’d been hiding behind the cot extended her hand towards Elea.

 

   “The powers that be told us we were going to get a replacement sometime today, I guess that’s you. Your new gear is over here. Everything that's on the cot and in that rucksack there.” 

 

She threw her arm in front of her, lazily pointing to a thin green cot that looked hardly big enough to hold Elea, let alone some of these soldiers. An assortment of items was neatly packed either in the rucksack next to it, or spread out on the surface of the cot itself. There was the rucksack itself, body armor with a plate, an extra plate right next to that, small medical kits, scissors, nylon rope, two water canteens, a pair of extra socks, and a uniform. That wasn’t even counting what was inside the rucksack itself. Jeez, this stuff looked like it weighed as much as she did. 

 

“Uhhhh…What do I do with all of this?” 

 

Yuri snorted cynically.

 

“Right now? Nothing. We are just waiting for the last of the draftees to trickle in so we can take a train to the frontlines and start...I don’t know. Shooting a bunch of insurgents, I hope. Oh, but you might want to get your uniform on before the D.I. shows up.”

 

   Elea cocked an eyebrow, turning to face Yuri.

 

   “Wait, you knew all that already?”

 

“Well no, not really. But that is my best guess as to what’s going to happen.”

 

   The piercing noise of a whistle shrieked loud enough for everyone in the barracks to hear it, whether they wanted to or not. At the same time, every recruit in the building began to scramble. Magazines and books were dropped to the floor, their pages still turning. Uniforms were thrown on over t-shirts. A short and plumpy recruit picked up the rat with gentle haste, setting it outside. Elea was dumbfounded, her eyes darting around the hall as she tried to figure out what was happening and what to do. From behind, Mava clapped her on the shoulder.

 

   “Get your ass outside! You don’t wanna be in here when the D.I. shows up!” She aggressively hissed to Elea.

 

   The who?

 

The recruits acted like they were some sort of mythical beast. As if they would storm into the room and destroy everything in sight. Elea had no idea who this “D.I.” was, but she was willing to bet that it wasn’t a good idea to stick around and find out. She quickly followed suit behind her two new squadmates. They nearly scrambled over each other like chickens running from a fox, not because the cadets didn’t like each other, but because they didn’t want whoever this guy was to go after them for being too slow. 

 

Pushing past the double doors, Elea was greeted with the sight of two rows of cadets. Each of them was neatly lined up in the dirt courtyard. They stood with their hands crossed behind their back, stance wide, almost symmetrical in their formation and distance from one another. Elea quickly rushed to the end of the second row doing her best to copy-cat the same stance that everyone else was doing. Overhead, the storm clouds rumbled and growled as flashes of lightning pulsed through the gray mist. Elea hoped they weren’t going to be out here long, it looked like it was going to rain soon.

 

A man in a leather brown campaign hat approached the recruits from a distance flanked by two smaller copies of him on both sides. He wore the patch on his sleeve that separated him from his comrades. It read something along the lines of “drill instructor?” Wait a second….drill instructor….D.I…..oh no.

 

The D.I. stormed up in front of the recruits with a huff. He looked less like a drill instructor with the heart of a brick, and more like a brick with the heart of a drill instructor. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he scanned the crowd like a machine, looking for any sign of error, of weakness, anything. Any excuse to drag them to the front and humiliate and punish them. Elea tensed up as still as a statue, her eyes locked forward. She hardly dared to even breathe.

He weaved through their formation like a hyena ducking between a herd of gazelle. That’s when his gaze finally settled on Elea. His lips curled into a wicked grin, revealing his stained yellow teeth. Elea began to sweat bullets, a drop trickling down the side of her head. The D.I. stared at her hair, appearing to contemplate for a moment before a lightbulb went off in his head. She didn’t like the look of that at all. 

 

“Well shit, look at that! Seems that Private strawberry here forgot her uniform!” His voice was purposely rambunctious and condescending.

 

Uniform? Her mind flashed back to the green and gray articles of clothing that were….still sitting on the surface of her cot….in the barracks. 

 

Ah

 

“So since we do not spare time for individuals! And since you have chosen to forget your uniform! Yer stupid ass gon’ be doing double duty!” He bellowed in a southern accent thicker than oatmeal.

 

“But….I just got here.” She choked out meekly.

 

“I DO NOT GIVE RAT’S BEEEEHIND, PRIVATE STRAWBERRY!” He bellowed like some sort of giant. His voice was guttural as flem spewed from his mouth.

 

“You‘re all gon’ be doing something so simple a fuckin chidl could do it! Obstacle course!”

 

Even though they didn’t say anything verbally, Elea could just feel the collective groans of vexation and dismay emanating from the rest of the platoon. To be fair, some of that dismay was from herself. Her shoulders slumped as she slowly accepted fate and realized that nothing could really be done to change this.

 

This was gonna be a long day, wasn’t it?

 

   One of those guys was a Ranger. This was troubling news indeed.

 

   He squeezed his hand into a fist, cupping it over his mouth as he scanned through the police report. It didn’t really tell him anything he didn’t already know. At this point, he was just reading through it for the sake of reflecting on the day’s events. To his left sat an untouched cup of fresh brew, piping hot steam still whisping gently from its surface. To his right was his helmet, his reflection scowling back at him in its thin knight-like visor. 

 

   He wished that they had been able to take one of them alive. But alas, they had to up and die on him. Not only that, but they’d done the whole thing in broad daylight. The more civilians saw what happened, the more they started to ask questions. To their credit, the insurgents fought back with everything they had. It was admirable, but in the end, it didn’t save them. 

 

   He took a sip of the coffee. The searing hot liquid slipped through his teeth and down his throat, waking up some of his nerves.

 

   They’d managed to recover the asset safe and sound, at least. To be honest, even he had no idea what the true nature of the asset was until this afternoon. That was the price of secrecy, he supposed. As for the other guy, hopefully, they’d recover ok. Getting shot in the gut is one hell of a  harrowing experience, even more so if you’re a civilian.

 

   He leaned back in his sea-blue office chair, cupping his hand behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. If it were up to him, he would have put the asset in some sort of witness protection program. But alas, that would open up a can of worms that nobody in The Council or high brass wanted to deal with. What was the Insurgency playing at, anyway? They went after the asset right in the daylight of a crowded city. With martial law in it of their own actions, no less. Were they trying to send a message to the rest of the world? That they could strike anywhere, at any time, and that nowhere was safe?

It was a possibility that they could use the fear to force troops and supplies back home and weaken the front at San Hugel. It was also an option that the bombings were nothing more than a diversion so that they could extract the asset. But if so, then why bomb New Washington? Why send only one Ranger instead of a whole team? 

 

He scoffed at himself. With all these questions swirling around in his head, he was surprised that he hadn’t abandoned the Commandos and joined up with the Intercontinental Security Agency. Three knocks came from the other side of the door from his temporary office. He leaned forward, swiveling his chair to face it.

 

“Come in, Julia.” It sounded less like a warm invitation from an old friend and more like a command you’d hear from the school principal. A command that the medic on the other side was quick to heed.

 

The door swung open, and one of his most trusted colleagues stood before him. The bright red cross with a pristine white circular background on her shoulder patch gave away her purpose. She quickly saluted him, and he returned the favor. She wasted no time walking into the office. Before he could even think to ask her what she was doing here, she spoke.

 

“Troy, our trackers have lost visual on the asset.” She reported, her tone was urgent and anxious.

 

Troy was taken aback by the statement. His eyes widened in surprise, not expecting this kind of news so soon. He was quick to regain his composure, however.

 

“When?” He asked bluntly.

 

“About seven hours ago. We sent eyes everywhere we could think of. The college, the airport, a few swift-rail stations, her mother’s house. Even gave Namur a team of local cops to clear out abandoned alley houses and warehouses. Nothing, it’s like she just went off-the-grid completely. We would have notified you sooner, but you were in a meeting with Colonel Marquis again.”

 

Troy cursed under his breath. He couldn’t help but notice Julia still looking at him. Like he was going to magically come up with some plan that would solve all their problems. Honestly, he wished he could. 

Where the hell could the asset have ended up in the last half-day or so since his team had rescued her? Maybe the Rangers had reorganized quickly enough for a second go at kidnapping and had succeeded. If that was the case, they had somehow managed to slip past both his recon teams while doing it. Damn Rangers were annoying as hell to fight against, but as much as he loathed to admit it, they had skill comparable to his own Commandos.

 

Just then, his holo began to ring in his pocket. The annoying chime of the default ringtone was the only sound that filled the room. He yanked it out of his pocket, tapping his finger on the little green answer button. At the other end of the line was the person Troy himself answered to, Colonel Nick Marquis. He barely paid much attention to the man’s scolding yells and vitriolic rhetoric. Every time his team messed up even in the slightest, even if it wasn’t their fault, Colonel Marquis would shout at them. 

Troy had learned to expect it anytime his team made any mistakes. The accusations of incompetence on Troy’s part and the threats to have him court-martialed for negligence ceased after only ten seconds or so, a lot shorter than they usually did. That was what really got his attention, and not in a good way.

 

“....-Anyways! We finally figured out where the asset is. She was supposed to be immune from the draft order, but some paper pusher made the worst mistake of their miserable lives and drafted her anyways. Initial reports state she’s at some dead-end base in Romania called Onder-hak.” Marquis stated.

 

Troy almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Romania….Fucking Romania. The ISA had spent nineteen years doing everything to keep her as far away from the eastern hemisphere as possible. Thanks to some logistical error, the asset was currently only a two-hour drive from the front lines. She was now within striking distance of every Ranger team from Germany to Afghanistan to Singapore. If the Insurgency found out….If  _ he _ found out….

 

“What are our orders, sir?” Troy asked To the naked ear, one wouldn’t have noticed any difference in the tone of his voice. But to Julia, the urgency and anxiety from her superior officer seemed to send a chill up her spine.

 

The Colonel’s response had been precisely what he’d been expecting. Which was to say it was the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear. Then again, most of what came out of the Colonel’s mouth fit that description. 

 

“Of course, sir. Consider it already done.” He said before clicking his holo shut.

 

With a deep sigh of contempt, he slipped the device back into his pocket. Even without turning to make eye contact, Troy could feel the stare his unit’s medic boring into the back of his skull like a laser beam. He lowered his head and closed his eyes for a moment or two.

 

“Permission to speak freely, Sergeant,” Troy said.

 

“Troy, how much longer are we gonna do this? Don’t get me wrong, she seems like a good person overall. But we should be securing the line at Ukraine, not wasting our time playing guardian angel to some civilian we know nothing about.” Julia urged.

 

“I share your distaste about this whole scenario, but orders are orders. Whoever she is, command thought she was worth sending some of their best to shadow her. She has to be important somehow, the fact that we don’t know the reason doesn’t make it any less so.” He rebutted.

 

She scowled but hesitated. Troy could almost see the gears turning in her head before she let out an agitated hmph in resignation. Well hey, if she wanted to personally go to Colonel Marquis and ask him for permission to speak freely. Heh, Troy would pay good money to see that.

 

“What are our orders, now?”

 

He rose from his chair with a plastic squeak. Grabbing his helmet off the desk, Troy made his for the door, motioning Julia to follow.

 

“Get the rest of the unit together, we’re going to Romania.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that's it for Breaking Point. At least until chapter 6 goes up, which should be in like....I dunno a couple of weeks. I try to write quality over quantity. If you enjoyed the story so far, lemme know. I'm always looking to get better, and any advice or thoughts and opinions is always appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	6. This Drill Instructor is Engineered to Kill Recruits

**** Elea’s breathing was as heavy and strained. It felt like there were spikes inside her throat and lungs. Sweat clung to her forehead. Everything in her body ached. She’d always believed that she was at least somewhat physically fit. That obstacle course had very quickly and very painfully proved her wrong.

 

At least it hadn’t started raining yet.

 

“Lord Jesus Mary Mother Christ and Joseph! What a fucking disappointment!” The D.I. yelled at the top of his lungs like a human bullhorn.

 

She had learned during training that his name was Sergeant Thorne. Rumor around the platoon was that Sergeant was, in fact, his legal first name. How that man hadn’t gone hoarse from all of his yelling astounded Elea. It’s like some deity had come down from the heavens and personally blessed him with a throat that would never become sore.

Slowly but surely, she forced her legs to trudge along the trail to the mess hall. After four rigorous hours of hell, they were finally being allowed a reprieve in the form of food. Tasty, delicious food….Elea’s stomach growled like an enraged grizzly bear at the thought. They were so close to the mess hall now, so close! She could smell the scent of fresh biscuits and meat wafting through the air.

 

“Platoooooon halt!”

 

Sigh

 

“Fireteam Gamma! Ten paces back! File line on me!”

 

In near unison, Mava, Elea, and Yuri took ten steps backward and formed a single file line. All of them facing the D.I., while trying to keep a pokerface.. Sergeant Thorne’s brow furrowed at the three of them so hard you could see wrinkles form on his face. His lips looked like an upside-down U. He stomped directly towards Mava. She stood ready to meet him. Her stance gave away her anxiety, yet she held fast. 

 

“Seems to me your fireteam held everyone else back today! You wanna tell me what happened, Private? Maybe your problem is running, huh!? ‘Cause I have a pet snail that moves faster than you do! My snail has Parkinson's disease! It’s also been dead For 26 years!”

 

“Sir yes, sir!” Mava replied.

 

“Do you even know your right foot from your left foot?” The Sergeant asked, unscrewing his water canteen.

 

“Sir yes, sir!”

 

“Bullshit! You didn’t convince me out there today! Let me help you remember, private!”

 

He splashed Mava’s left leg, drenching it with water. “Which side was that?”

 

“Sir left side, sir!”

 

Thorne drenched her other leg in stale water as well. He casually shook every last drop of water he had in the canteen down from Mava’s kneecap to her boot.

 

“What about that one, private!?”

 

“Sir right si-”

 

Before she could even finish her sentence, Thorne yelled directly into her face. Hot disgusting breath puffed directly into her face. Even from where she was standing, Elea could tell it must’ve smelled awful.

 

“So you  _ do  _ know the difference! Run faster next time and maybe I won’t question your limited fucking intelligence!”

 

The next name on the D.I.’s personal shit-list was Yuri. His stance was tighter, more rigid, like he was prepared for anything that might come out of the D.I.’s mouth. At least he thought he was.

 

“Did you used to be a lumberjack, boy!?”

 

“Sir no, sir!”

 

“Are you sexually attracted to plywood!?”

 

“S-Sir no sir!”

 

“Then why the  _ fuck _ were you  _ dry-humping  _ my obstacle course!?”

 

A look of confusion crossed Yuri’s face for a moment before he finally realized what the Sergeant was referring to.

 

“Sir I was trying to put my leg over the wall so I could climb it, sir!”

 

“That’s exactly what a plywood-fucking lumberjack would say! Your climbing attempt was a goddamn disgrace to this entire military! Unfuck yourself!”

 

He broke eye contact with Yuri, walking over to Elea. Beads of sweat slid down the side of her forehead. Elea braced herself, expecting the worst. When he stopped in front of her, Sergeant Thorne did not splash her with water. He did not yell at her. He didn’t even scowl, in fact, he was actually grinning like a comic book villain as he looked at her. He curled his hand into a fist except for his middle finger, playfully waggling it in the air…..Maybe that was a good sign?

 

“Private Strawberry. You don’t even gotta say jack shit. I got something special planned for your sorry ass....”

 

Ah. That would be bad. Probably very bad.

 

“Platooooon! Forwaaaard march!”

 

Elea didn’t even want to wonder what was in store for her. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now, it was biscuit time. She marched into the hall and a refreshing blast of cool wind from the air conditioning put a faint smile on her face. She absentmindedly grabbed her tray of biscuits, water, and mystery meat stew before sitting next to the rest of her fireteam at their assigned table. Thankfully, it appeared that Sergeant Thorne decided he had had enough of abusing his recruits, at least for now.

 

At first, they simply ate together, not saying a word to another. It was Yuri who finally broke the ice.

“So that didn’t go very well today.”

 

“Yeah….I don’t think I really want to talk about it.” Mava responded, not even bothering to look up before going right back to scarfing down her stew.

 

Ignoring her, Yuri continued to try to make conversation. “Hey Strawberry, you don’t exactly look the soldier type. And you sure as hell didn’t act like one out there today. How come you’re in training to be one?”

 

She slowly looked up from her food for a moment, raising her eyebrow.

 

“It’s Elea….”

 

“Elea? Strawberry? Tomayto, tomahto. Look, the point is how’d you end up here?” He insisted.

 

Elea glared at him with a deadpan expression, obviously unamused by his comment that only a thick headed cretin or a sarcastic smartass could have come up with.

 

“Well if you must know, I was drafted. I didn’t exactly join this whole circus act of my own free will. No offense.”

 

“None taken.”

 

“Mostly I just want to do my time and get home so I can get back to my college work and, you know, following my dreams or something, I dunno. What about you?” Elea asked.

 

Yuri shrugged his thick muscular shoulders. His face was indifferent as he poked a prodded at a shred of brown meat with his plastic fork.

 

“Meh, joined voluntarily. I always wanted to travel across the world and shoot at things...or people....or both. Insurgency kicking off the war by taking over San Hugel was the perfect excuse. As for Mava over here?”

 

Mava still didn’t look up from her food and drink, guzzling her cup of water like someone who’d been trapped in the Sahara desert for weeks.

 

“Yeah I dunno, she won’t tell me. Which is fair I guess.”

 

His female squadmate shot a quick sideways glance at him but said nothing. Mava finished off her water cup, crushing the plastic before dropping it back on her tray. Elea shrugged, stuffing another biscuit in her mouth. It was warm, fluffy, and buttery, hitting her tongue with just a hint of salty flavor on its surface.

 

Another recruit bumped into her back, nearly making her choke on the carb-filled treat. She grunted for a moment, before looking up to see who had bumped into her. By the time she recovered from nearly experiencing death-by-biscuit, the culprit was already across the mess hall. In fact, so was almost everyone else; it’s like they were all converging towards something. The three of them looked up from their mostly finished meals to see what was going on.

 

It was a giant lightscreen. Elea hadn’t even noticed it when she entered the mess hall. If she had to guess, she’d say that she was so hungry it hadn’t even registered in her brain. The screen was turned on now, the recruits crowding around it in a half circle. The first thing it showed was white pixelated text on a pure black background. 

 

_ “Agema Program Training Exercise 1696-E. Indigo Team.” _

 

The video jumpcut to the view from a side-mounted helmet camera. A display of a dark and dusty room somewhat akin to a warehouse was the first thing that Elea saw. Sitting at the bottom of the lightscreen were the words. “Indigo 1-3.” The helmet cam’s view swung to the left. There she could see three people, and when Elea saw them, her breath nearly caught in her throat.

 

There they were again. The gray and black camouflage, the sleek steel exo-suits, and the helmets with their knight-like plexiglass visors. If these weren’t the exact same soldiers that pulled her from the van just days ago, then they looked damn close.

 

Suddenly the camera feed cut out for a moment, switching to the perspective of “Indigo 1-1.” He carried a rifle similar to the same rifle that every other soldier in the OCMF carried. Except this one looked like it had a couple of extra gadgets attached to it. Was that some sort of….laser scope or something? She didn’t really know any of the terminologies. 

What really caught her eye was the big guy. He was taller, and his exo-suit bulkier. He carried a shield that was almost as big as he was. The giant appeared less concerned about potential bullets coming his way, and more concerned about how he was going to fit that giant rectangular piece of steel through the doorway. 

The four of them stood around a rickety wooden table. Sitting atop it was a map with a bird’s eye view of what she could only assume were the blueprints for the building they were currently in.

 

“Alright, as per usual, Tower’s gonna be our pointman. The plan is to blast the first door and let the shield soak up bullets while the rest of us work our way up from there. Once we reach the lobby area, I’ll toss a nine-banger, and we’ll clear it. Everyone ready?” Indigo 1-1 pointed along to specific sections of the map as he spoke. The sound of his voice was slightly distorted by his helmet’s internal radio.

 

“Ready, sir.” Indigo 1-2.

 

“Ready when you are.” Indigo 1-3.

 

“Let’s do this.” Indigo 1-4.

 

With the team locked and loaded, Indigo 1-3 advanced, unfolding a thin green package that looked vaguely akin to a bathroom mat. She laid  it flat onto the door in front of them and it stuck like glue. She signaled for the rest of the team to back up by a few paces as she wired the green mat to a device in her hand. With two clicks of the device, the object attached to the door detonated, blasting fire and shards of plywood into the other room.

 

The camera feed cut out from the explosion but came to just in time to see 1-4 march into the room with his shield held in front of him like a Roman centurion.  Two sentry turrets stood in the room in front of them, one attached to the wall, the other protruding from the top of an empty oil barrel . The machines cut loose with the sound of automatic fire. But instead of firing real bullets, they fired pellets. Orangeish-amber in color, the pellets looked almost exactly like paintballs. Wait….were those the same kind of pellets Elea had been hit with outside of the swift-rail station?

 

A flurry of loud clangs filled the enclosed space as they broke apart against 1-4’s shield. Moments later, 1-1 leaned through the doorway. Ear-splitting cracks and bangs from his rifle drowned out all other noise. The very real bullets from 1-1's rifle sliced one of the sentry turrets to ribbons with controlled semi-automatic fire. At the same time, 1-2 advanced until she was just behind 1-4 and his shield, still soaking up paintballs all the while.

 

1-2 fired her rifle, the smokeless powder clouding the vision of both her and her camera for a moment before it cleared, revealing another destroyed sentry turret. 1-3 came in last, bringing up the rear of the formation. It was the same story for the next two rooms. The soldiers’ aim was pinpoint accurate, their motions swift and fluid as they mechanically cleared every square inch of every room. It was as if they had drilled this exact scenario hundreds if not thousands of times before.

 

The four elites progressed to a set of metal double doors. Two soldiers stacked up on each side, each ready to burst in at a millisecond’s notice. While 1-4 opened one of the double doors ajar by just a crack, 1-1 slid what looked like a grenade out from his chest plate. 

 

Using his index finger, he yanked the pin.

 

With an underhand toss, he rolled the cylinder-shaped grenade through the crack in the doorway, releasing the spoon as well.

 

It clanged against the dusty concrete floor of the training house. With a metallic ping, it bounced once, bounced twice.

 

And just then, the camera feed cut out. The only thing left on the screen was silence and a few red letters displaying the words “no signal.”

 

The disgruntled moaning and groaning coming from the recruits about how it was “just getting to the good part,” was quickly silenced by the slamming of the mess hall doors just behind everyone. Two figures stood just behind the now open doorway. For a moment, no one could make out their details as they were blotted out by the sun behind them.

 

It was only when they entered that Elea could really see the details of what they looked like. The one on the left was tall, bulky, muscular, and Caucasian. A thick and bushy horseshoe mustache covered everything from his upper lip to his lower cheeks. His companion was much shorter and lighter but appeared to be just as deadly. She seemed to be of Indian descent. Perhaps from Bangladesh? Somewhere around that area.

But their uniforms were the exact same as the ones in the video from just now. So were their heights, the way they carried themselves. They had a striking resemblance to the people that had rescued her from that van just days ago. Elea hesitated for a second. Wait….were these….No, they couldn’t actually be here. Could they? Now the mess hall had gone silent. All eyes were on the new people.

 

The two strolled up past the recruits, placing themselves in line to grab their share of biscuits and prepackaged meat of unknown origin. Even though they weren’t wearing their helmets, Elea was almost certain at this point those were the same soldiers. Those soldiers that wore different uniforms, had better armor, and used exo-suits. They had gone by a different name...Commandos, right?

 

The shorter of the two looked around the giant room with a cocked eyebrow  as if they were wondering why everyone was staring at them.

 

And just like that, everyone went back to their seats and resumed their meals. They still received cursory glances of curiosity and awe from time to time, but a few glares from 1-3 quickly erased those. The two of them sat at their own table, a smaller circular one that just so conveniently happened to have four chairs around it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

 

“Yo, earth to Elea.”

 

Elea blinked for a moment, snapping back to reality. She turned to look at Mava.

 

“What’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. And that ghost’s seen like five other ghosts. And those ghosts were discussing government conspiracies and committing tax fraud.” Mava pointed out.

“...Do I?” Elea asked, slightly taken aback by such an oddly specific description of her facial expression.

 

“I mean, yeah kinda.” Yuri chimed in.

 

The mysterious Indigo 1-4 glanced over to the table where fireteam Gamma was sitting, a small chop of meat hanging from the corner of his mouth, brushing up against his facial hair. He did a double take as Elea’s confused stare entered his line of sight. Elea could actually see him squinting at her before silently mouthing “sonuvabitch…” There was no doubt that he recognized Elea.

 

He looked around the mess hall for a second. No one was really paying attention to them anymore, as they had all gone back to their own food. Now Indigo 1-3 had begun to notice and silently gestured for Elea to come on over. She picked up her tray, quickly strolling on over to where the two of them were sitting. The two members of her fireteam could only look on. With the thwack of the hard plastic tray against the wooden surface of the table, she sat down next to them.

 

“You….aren’t you that girl we rescued? The van in New Washington, right?” 1-4 said.

Elea shrugged nonchalantly. “No? Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” 

 

The two Indigo team members paused for a moment, stunned and perplexed. 1-4 looked like he was about to apologize over the case of mistaken identity before Elea piped up again, looking like she was stifling a laugh.

 

“I’m just messing with you. Yeah, it’s me. My name is Elea, by the way. Thanks again for saving my life.”

 

“Ah don’t mention it. I’m Specialist Oerlikon, callsign: Tower. This is Corporal Neith, callsign: Namur.”

 

Oerlikon and Neith, huh? Now she had the name of two of the people who’d saved her life. But right now she had a more pressing question. One she’d forgotten to ask before.

 

“Ok...Corporal Neith and Specialist Oerlikon. What happened back in New Washington?” Elea leaned in, laying her elbows on the lunch table as she spoke.

 

Corporal Neith cocked an eyebrow. “In New Washington? You should know, you were there.”

 

“Yeah but it all happened so fast. And don’t forget I had a black bag over my head the entire time. Who were those guys, anyway? What did they want with me?”

 

Oerlikon shared a sideways glance with his comrade for a moment. He sighed, his lips slanted. He appeared just as lost as Elea on the matter.

 

“Dunno yet, kid. We’re still looking into it.”

 

Elea eyed them both for a moment. She knew asking any further wouldn’t yield any answers, and she still needed to finish her meal. With the power of a hungry stomach, she stuffed the entirety of the last biscuit into her mouth, barely chewing it all before swallowing it.

 

“So what’s up with the callsign thing? I noticed that the other guy in the video guy called you that as well.” Elea asked.

 

Oerlikon cocked an eyebrow. “What video?”

 

“Ohhhh yeah the video that was playing on the lightscreen over there before you got here.” Elea pointed over to the giant lightscreen at the end of the mess hall with her index finger. “Anyways it’s not important. I was just curious why you guys need callsigns.”

 

Neith scoffed. “Tell you what; on the off chance you ever become a Commando? I’ll tell you all about it. For now, you should get back to your fireteam before Sergeant Thorne comes back and loses his temper.”

 

“Again,” Oerlikon added.

 

Elea nodded, rising from her seat. She took her food tray, by this time licked clean of any food or drink, and dumped the plastic and styrofoam into the recycler. She returned to her original table, plopping down on the bench as casual as one could be. Both Mava and Yuri stared at her with slack jaws and dinner-plate-sized eyes.

 

“Yo Elea? What the fuck.” Yuri couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

“What?” Elea asked.

 

“What do you mean ‘what?’ You literally just walk over, get all buddy-buddy with two of the deadliest motherfuckers in the OCMF, walk back, and then expect us to not ask questions?”

 

“Yeah, what Yuri said. How in the hell do you know those guys?”

 

Elea rubbed the back of her head, grinning sheepishly as she refused to make eye contact with either of them.

 

“Oh yeah well I mean it’s a long story. But to sum it up short, they were part of a team that kinda saved my life from some armed gunmen who tried to kidnap me. So yeah….that’s pretty cool.”

 

Their expressions of shock and surprise only increased tenfold at the revelation. Before her two squadmates could muster their respective reactions of disbelief, Sergeant Thorne once again burst through the mess hall doors and into their lives uninvited. Elea had quickly learned to subconsciously tune out about 80% of what the professional loudmouth said when she wanted to. Uhhh blah blah go outside blah blah blah rifle range blah blah…eh, whatever. She’d just follow the other recruits and figure it out when she got there.

 

Walking to the rifle range was nice enough, she supposed. The loose gravel path actually felt kinda good under her feet as she marched with the other recruits. She had no idea why it felt nice, she just acknowledged that it did. The gray masses of stratus clouds still lingered above them. Somehow it still hadn’t started raining. Slightly chilled wind caressing her face felt good. Hopefully, the weather would hold.

 

In the distance, Elea and the rest of the marching column heard the sounds of cracks. Like little firecrackers. She didn’t need a balding middle-aged man with a five o’clock shadow and a campaign hat yelling in her ear to tell her what it was. That didn’t stop him from yelling about it anyways, though. An armored truck with striped black and white snow camouflage whirred past them on their left, kicking up tan gravel and dust in their faces. Yet they marched on.

 

So now she knew two of the Commandos that had saved her life. They seemed like friendly enough people, but she hadn’t really gotten to know them long enough to know for sure. Seems to her they didn’t know everything. Maybe if she asked their leader, Troy, was it? Perhaps then she’d get some information she could use. Only as they passed the red flag indicating a hot range did it occur to Elea that she’d, well, never actually shot a gun before.

 

Guess she’d have to learn.

 

Cordite fumes wafted through the air into her nostrils. It smelled like pulverized and burned copper. As they entered, two plastic tubs full of sweaty protective headphones and scratched shatterproof glasses laid on the ground in front of the benches they sat on. They were shared around from squadmate to squadmate as the platoon already on the range finished off the last of their ammunition, packing up and departing from the range. Thorne gave them a quick briefing on range safety.

 

All rifles are always loaded. Don’t bother trying to argue that they’re not.

 

Don’t point your rifles at someone else.

 

Keep your finger off the trigger until the moment you’re ready to shoot.

 

Know your target, as well as everything in your line of fire.

 

As she loaded 7.62 rounds into a magazine, she ran through the four rules in her head over and over again. The last thing she wanted to do was make a mistake that would send Sergeant Thorne into another psychotic rage. There was also a bunch of stuff about how the gun, er….rifle worked. Safeties, magazines, triggers, iron sights and all that. Elea chuckled to herself about how the magazines kinda looked like stainless steel bananas. She pressed her thumb against the steel with large amounts of effort. Actually loading the little brass bullets themselves into the mags was a lot harder than Elea thought it would be.

She marched up to her own station and laid in the damp sand. Propping herself up on her elbows, she stared at the beautiful green rolling hill about a hundred meters away sporting paper targets. One of them had her name on it. Her gaze fell to the G-14 all-purpose combat rifle on the ground next to her. She stared at it for a moment, unsure what to even really think about it. It was matte gray and black, very angular but also somehow seemed smooth.

 

Thorne gave the order to load. Elea stuck the curved metal magazine into the back of the rifle. The stainless steel slid right in, locking into place with a quiet click.

 

Drip

 

Thorne yelled to RSO at the other end if the range was ready. The RSO shouted her confirmation, giving a thumbs-up and a green light for them to start shooting.

Drip

 

Elea flicked her safety off, racked back the bolt, and aimed downrange. Goosebumps popped up on her skin as the other recruits on either side of her let their rounds fly with resounding bangs. Man, so this is what holding a rifle feels like, huh? Through her iron sights, she could make out the vague outline of a bullseye on her target.

 

Drip

She slowly constricted her index finger around the trigger. The anticipation of firing a firearm for the first time began to well up in her nervous system. Was she aiming it correctly? Did she account enough for recoil? She really hoped this thing wouldn’t blow up in her face.

 

**BANG**

 

The metal stock pushed back into her shoulder for a moment. Just like that, it was all over. Her very first bullet went flying down range, missing the plate metal target with a resounding thwack in the sandy dirt two feet to the left of it.

 

Woah….Even though she missed, that was kinda exhilarating.   

 

Drip Drip Drip.

 

What the?

 

Drip drip drip drip drip drip drip.

 

Oh god damn it.

 

It was as if the brass flying from her rifle’s ejection port had been the only cue that mother nature needed. Before Elea knew it, the sky burst open in furious anger. Buckets worth of downpour drenched the poor recruits caught out in the open, soaking them from boot to cap. A rookie tried to move from his firing station but was quickly put down by Sergeant Thorne with verbal fury.

 

To her chagrin, Elea went back to shooting the paper target downrange, now beginning to soak into a gray-hued mulch. A few more rounds later and well, she hadn’t gotten anywhere near the bullseye. One of her bullets hit the paper. At least she thought it did. It was too damn hard to tell through all the mist and precipitation. 

 

She finished one magazine and moved to grab the second container of ammunition. For merely half a second, she glanced behind her, she didn’t even mean to, it was as if her subconscious took over. The redheaded recruit almost couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Standing proud and tall in an OCMF uniform was a man with a face all too familiar to her.

 

Was that Griffin?   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kinda new to this whole A03 thing. Hope you all like the story. Obligatory like and comment, I suppose. If I make any errors it's because A03's formatting is still new and alien to me. Sorry about that.


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